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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(■,16)  072-4503 


'«  /A.      ^^ 


W., 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  lnst*tut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


^ 


vV 


1981 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  tha  best 
original  copy  available  ror  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 
D 

n 
n 

n 


□ 


n 


□ 


Coloured  covers/ 
Ccuverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagee 

Covers  restored  ano/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


□    Bound  with  other  materia!/ 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serreo  peut  causer  de  i'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  m-trye  int^rieure 

.Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dam;  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  i)t6  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaire5: 


L'lnstitut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
mortification  dans  la  m^thode  normale  de  filmage 
^ont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


I      I    Coloured  pages/ 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  enrtommag^es 


□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  peliicuises 


H' 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d^color^es,  tachet^es  ou  piquees 


I      [    Pages  detached/ 


Pages  detachees 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

f  prir 

egale  de  I'impression 

iupplementary  materic 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplemantt-ire 

ivailable/ 
disponible 


r~T   Showthrough/ 

□    Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualite  inegale 

I      I    Includes  supplementary  material/ 

□    Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition 


□    Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  ir>  age/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t4  film^es  d  nouveau  de  facon  ct 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  mdiqu6  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


J 


12X 


16X 


20X 


26X 


30X 


24X 


T] 


28)( 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grSce  d  la 
g6ndrosit6  us: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  ^td  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  filmd,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  p^ige  with  a  printed  cr  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  oiiginaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  filmds  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commengant  par  la 
premidro  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  teile 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^  (meaning  "COIM- 
TINUED"),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN  ", 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
'equirer].  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  difidrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  etre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n§cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

AN   OLD   WORLD, 


AS 


SEEN    THROUGH   YOUNG   EYES. 


MtI.AN   CATirFDRAI,, 


AN  OLD  WORLD, 


AS 


SEEN    THROUGH    YOUNG    EYES; 


OR, 


Travels  Around  the   Wore 


n 


DY 


ELLEN    H.    WALWORTH 


•'  How  beautiful  the  world  is  !  and  how  wide  !  '-Longfellow. 


D 


NEW    YORK: 

&   J.    SADLIER   &    COMPANY, 

31    BARCLAY  STREET. 
MONTREAL:    275   NOTRE  DAME   STREET. 


Copyright,  1876,  Bv 
K  I-  L  [•:  N    H  .    WALWORTH 


•I 


EDWARD  0    JKNKINS. 

PRfNTKti  AiVn  ari-.nKOTyrfs/t, 

20  NORTH  WILLIAM  ST.,  N.  Y. 


•I 


fo     MY     yVioTHER, 

Mrs.    ELLEN     HARDIN    WALWORTH. 


UNMEASURED   LOVE   AND   RESPECT, 

%  dedicate 


THIS  ACCOUNT  OF  MY  TRAVELS. 


^PWI 


a 


P  R  E  F  A  C  E  . 


When  I  was  about  to  start  for  Europe  witli  my 
uncle,  mother  and  I  decided  that  I  sliould  write  lon^ 
letters  home  on  the  rainy  days  and  between-timcs  of 
our  trip,  which  she  would  keep  together  until  my  re- 
turn. They  would  answer  every  purpose  of  a  journal, 
and  at  the  same  time  keep  her  informed  of  our  where- 
abouts and  adventures. 

From  the  time  I  landed  at  Glasgow  I  wrote  nearly 
every  we  c;  but  wo  travelled  about  so  constantly  that 
news  from  our  friends  was  often  long  in  overtakii.^  us. 
I  had  no  idea  that  my  letters  were  being  printed,  and 
was  very  much  surprised,  at  Florence,  to  hear  a  friend 
say  he  had  read  one  of  them  in  an  American  news- 
paper. It  was  not  until  we  reached  Rome  that  I 
heard  from  home  that  they  were  being  published  regu- 
larly in  the  Albany  Sunday  Press.  This  was  news  in- 
deed !  But  Albany  seemed  very  far  away,  and  I  was 
soon  absorbed  in  the  idea  of  going  on  around  the 
world,  which  had  not  suggested  itself  to  us  before ;  so 
my  impression  of  being  before  the  public  was  very 
vague,  and  I  continued  to  write  as  usual.  In  fact, 
these  long  letters,  written  at  odd  times  and  in  odd 
places,  had  become  to  me  a  part  of  the  pleasure  of  the 

journey. 

(ix) 


PREFACE. 


After  rcacliiiig  home  I  spent  a  portion  of  ihe  sum- 
mer vacation,  before  returning  to  school,  in  arranging 
my  printed  letters  with  appropriate  pictures  in  a  scrap- 
book.  It  seemed  but  a  step  from  the  scrap-book  to 
the  published  volume,  and  the  next  vacation  was  spent 
in  linking  together  the  disconnected  history  of  my 
journey  in  its  present  form. 


E.  H.  W. 


Saratoga  Springs,  April,  1877. 


I 


n- 

P- 

to 

nt 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

AWAY. 

School-girl  fancies— Their   fulfilment— Summoned  home— The  de- 
cision— Only     a     v;ilise— Passports— Uncle   and     "ditto"— The 
steamer— Bound     for    Scotland— The    leaving    and    the    left- 
I 


Adrift 


11. 

AT    SEA. 

"We  met  by  chance  "~Overboard~The  Captain's  cabin-Petrels 

and   porpoises- -A  cozy  tea-party-Old    Neptune's   shower-bath 

— "I-ilth  Mate  "-Pilg-riras-Sounding-A  roundabout  dance— 

A  marine  pocm-Ship-crocjuet  -Tag-An  impromptu  masquerade 

7 


— Land 


III. 
SOUTH-E/VSTERN    SCOTLAND. 

The  Clyde-Dumbarton  Castle -A  gray  ciiy-Bonnington  Linn- 
Cave  01  Sir  William  Wallace-"  Land  of  Burns  "-Faster  than 
lam  O  Shanter-Loch  Lomond -A  pony-ride  in  the  cloud^- 
Explonng  Ehen's  Isle-Following  in  the  footsteps  of  Roderick 
Dhu  and  Htz-James-A  village  of  know-nothings-Scotch  chil- 
dren— Stirling  Castle— Familiar  faces jg 

IV. 
RAIN  AND  RUINS. 
The  "  lona  "-Three  hundred  and  fifty-two  days  of  rain-Kyles  of 
Bute-Genuine  Highlanders-The  hunting  season-Fingal's  Cave 
in  a  storm-Birthplace  of  Christianity  in  Scotland-The  Calcdo- 
man  Canal-Drip  for  drip-A  banished  clan-Lads  and  lassies- 
A  t  irescme  rest- We  di  ffer-Once  moi  e  in  the  Lowlands        "      ^o 


xu 


CONTENTS. 


EDINBURGH  AND  THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 
Heart  of  Mid-Lothian— Memories  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots— Edin- 
burgh Castle— Abbotsford — Sir  Walter  Scott's  study — His  col- 


lection of  antiquities — His  tomb — Melrose  Abbey 


VI 


40 


THREE  CITIES  OF  IRELAND. 

The  Irish  Coast — Jaunting-cars — A  wild  Irishman — Dublin — Across 
the  country — Lost  in  Limerick 48 

VII. 

KILLARNEY  AND  BLARNEY. 

Among  the  Lakes  of  Killarney — Cottage  of  Kate  Kearney — Gap  of 
Dunloe  —  "Old  Weir  Bridge"  —  Muckross  Abbey — A  sudden 
squall — "Boots"  —  The  Blarney  Stone       ....       52 

VIII. 

ENGLAND. 

North  Wales — Chester  from  the  walls — A  labyrinth  of  railroads — 
The  great  Cathedrals — Witchery  of  York,  solemnity  of  Peter- 
borough, and  gi'andeur  of  Ely  Minsters — The  "  Dark  Ages  " — 
Cambridge  and  Oxford — "Great  Tom  " — Kenilworth  and  Queen 
Bess — Desolation — "Where  are  they?  "  —  Stratford-on-Avon — 
Shakespeare  from  his  cradle  to  his  grave — Inn  o*  the  Red  Horse 
— Souvenirs  of  Washington  Irving 59 

IX. 

LONDON. 

Visionary  companions — "  The  Golden  Cross  " — Panoramic  pictures 
— Westminster  Abbey — Houses  of  Parliament — Bewildering  col- 
lections— An  artist's  generosity    ......       74 

X. 

THE    TOWER. 

The  Thames--The  Tower  of  London — Traitor's  Gate — Spectres — 
Bloody  Tower — The  little  Princes — "  The  block  " — The  Horse 
Armory — Trophies — St.  Paul's — Dover  and  the  Channel — Leav- 
ing the  British  Isles 80 


cox  TENTS. 


XUl 


XI. 

BELGIUM. 

Misunderstandings  and  mistakes  — Desperation  of  a  Bostonian— 

Bruges  and  its  Belfry— A  voice  in  the  dark—Romantic  Fkinders 

—Ghent  — "Market  Day  "-The  Grand   Beguinage— Antwerp 

art— Eau  de  Cologne,  and  O  the  Cathedral !        ...       86 

XII. 
UP  THE  RHINE. 
The  first  glimpse — Pleasure-seekers  -  Sunday  at  Konigswinter— The 
way  we  walk— Legends  of  the  Drachenfels— An  island  nunnery 
—Romance  of  Rolandseck— Thirty-three  ruins— Sunset  on  the 
Rhine— Out  of  Dreamland  — Mayence  Cathedral  — Charms  of 
Heidelberg    Fooled  !— Lager  in  Ruins        ....       94 

XIII. 
NUREMBERG  AND  MUNICH. 
In  Bavaria— Antique  charms  of  Nuremberg— Modem  art  of  Mu- 
nich— A  dance  on  a  scrubbing-brush — Palace  of  the  King— The 
Royal  Chapel —  Porcelain  pictures  — Beauty  on  the  walls— The 
Glyptothek — Colored  statues  and  stained  glass — A  giantess— A 
warrior— From  Munich  to  Ulm 104 

XIV. 

S  U  M  M  I  T  -  G  A  Z  I  N  G  . 
Switzerland  and  the  Tyrolean  Alps— A  legend  of  Lake  Constance— 

■A  peculiar  introduction — 


German  roofs  and  Swiss  cottagres- 


Zurich  at  night- 


-Mountains  in  the  air . 


114 


X  -»/ . 

SWISS    VALLEYS. 

Enthusiastic  tourisis— Ragatz  and  Chur--A  French  landlady,  Swiss 

maid,  and  German  doctor — Lucerne — My  window — The  Rigi  — 

The  lake  — William  Tell  — Washerwomen  of  Geneva— Mount 

^l^^nc J  5,^ 

XVI. 
UPS    AND    DOWNS. 
"Letters  from   abroad  "—An   adventure— Mart'gny  ;   its   strange 
music— Valley  of  the  Rhone— Across  the  Simplon  by  moonlight, 
daylight,  and  lightning—"  Where  the  river  runs  "—The  gorge- 
In  safety — The  storm  rage?. .  ,        .        .        .        .126 


% 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


XVII. 

MILAN    AND    VERONA. 

Sojourners  at  Lago  Maggiore — Fun  over  turtles — Milan,  a  spider's 
web — Cathedral  contrasts — Tomb  of  Saint  Charles  Borromeo — 
Galleria  Vittorio  Emmanuele — A  Christian  church  of  the  early 
limes — St.  Ambrose  and  Theodosius  —  Reversed  —  Da  Vinci's 
masterpiece — Other  i)ictures — Verona — More  churches — "  Scali- 
gers  " — The  Am])hithcatre 135 

XVIII. 

A    WEEK    IN    VENICE. 

The  Grande  Canale  at  sunset — The  "  Stars  and  Stripes  " — The 
Piazzetta — Scenes  on  the  great  Piazza  di  San  Marco — Venice  at 
night — The  Bravo — The  Lido 146 

XIX. 

ART. 

A  dreary  scene — Bologna — A  pilgrimage  church — Opinions  about 
pictures  —  Guido  Reni's  Mater  Dolorosa — A  ride  through  the 
tunnels 153 

XX. 

CITIES    OF    ART. 

Florence  —  American  studios  —  The  Uffizi  —  San  Marco  —  Pisa  — 
Perugia  —  An   amusing  book — Italian   fountains  —  Perugino  — 


Assisi 


I.S9 


XXI. 

CHRISTIAN    ROME. 

Fumigation — The  Pantheon — St.  Peter's — The  curtain  lifted — After- 
thoughts— Ascending  —  Bird's-eye  view  of  the  Vatican  —  Three 
pictures  ;  many  statues — A  visit  to  Pope  Pius  IX, — The  Cata- 
combs           .        .         .        .        .     i6g 


XXII. 
BEGGARS,  BEAUTIES,  AND  BONES. 
'King  of  the   Roman   Beggars"  —  Morro  —  Barberini   Palace  — 
Beatrice   Cenci  —  Church    of   the   Capuchins  —  A    ghostly    re- 
treat       184 


CO  A' TENTS. 


XV 


XXIII. 

A  LETTER  TO   THE  CONVENT. 

Saint  Francis  and  Saint  Clara  in  connection  with  Assisi — Shrines 
at  Rome — The  catacombs  illuminated — Under  churches       .     190 

XXIV. 

PAGAN    ROME. 
A  blind  guide — A  moonlight  ride  through  ruined  Romt." — Sight- 
seers      197 

XXV. 

NEAPOLITAN  SURROUNDINGS. 

Overlooking  the  Bay  of  Naples — Stillness  of  Pompeii — Beautiful 
dwellings  and  grim  inhabitants — Capri — The  Blue  Grotto — Baja 
— Volcanic  regions  —  "  Round   the  world,"  perhaps  !        .     201 


1 


X  X  V I . 

FROM  BRINDISI  TO  ALEXANDRIA. 

Brindisi  ;  the  Harbor,  the  House  of  Virgil,  and  ttie  Appian  Way — 
Adriatic  Sea  ;  the  "  heel"  of  Italy,  and  the  outlines  of  Greece — 
New  Year's  Eve  on  the  i)lue  Mediterranean — Bay  of  Alexandria 
— Scenes  from  an  Egyptian  window 209 


1 


XXVII. 
EGYPT. 

A  world  of  wonders — Palm  trees — Spring  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile 
—Oranges  everywhere — Arabs  at  work  —Their  houses — Donkey- 
boys,  costumes,  sais — A  great  mosque — Cairo  in  general — The 
Pyramids  and  Sphinx  at  Ghizeh — Tombs  of  the  Caliphs       .     214 


XXVIII. 

UNCLE'S    CHAPTER. 
His  account  of  the  Coptic  Catholics  as  we  saw  them  in  Cairo- 


-An 


ancient  rite — Cathedral  of  the  schismatic  Copts — Their  queer 
customs — Traditions  of  the  Holy  Family  in  Egypt — The  house 
they  occupied — The  Sycamore  Tree 225 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


XXIX. 

THE  DESERT  AND  THE  RED  SEA. 

A  bashful  young  man — Mounting  a  camel — Land  of  the  Children 
of  Israel — Desert  scenery  —  Suez  Cai>al — The  steamer — Moses' 
Well  and  Mount  Sinai — Down  the  Red  Sea — Entering  the  Tropics 
— Strange  Lights 235 

XXX. 

INDIAN    OCEAN. 

Tropical  dreamiiiess  —  Sham   dangers  —  A    dinner    that    won    a 

fortress — Mermen  and  their  chant — The    heat — Peculiarities  of 

Aden  —  Incidents  of  Ocean  life  —  The  "Southern  Cross"' — A 

fl'tty 243 

XXXI. 
A  CINGALESE   HEROINE. 
Odd   sights  and  scenes — Mahometan  sailors — Christina  the  Cin- 
galese girl,  and  little  Evy — Saved  from  death — Broken  English — 
A  passing  cloud 250 

XXXII. 

SCENES  IN  THE  TROPICS. 

A  sunset  on  the  Arabian  Sea — Point  de  Galle— An  old  Spanish 
priest — A  Buddhist  temple  —  A  country-ride  in  Ceylon  —  The 
"  Australia  "  and  the  "  Delhi  " — Bay  of  Bengal — Penang  lawyers 
— Hot,  hotter,  hottest ! 255 

XXXIII. 

CHINESE   TOWNS  AND  THE   MONSOON. 

Singapore — The  mermen  again — Chinese  Pagoda — Almost  an  acci- 
dent—  The  China  Sea — Hong-Kong  —  Chinese  New  Year  — 
Sampans — A  few  people — Between  China  and  Japan   .        .     264 

XXXIV. 
UNCLE'S  OTHER  CHAPTER. 
The  martyr-field  of  Japan  —  The  modern  missionaries  and  their 
work — Results  of  St.  Francis  Xavier's  labors — Twelve  thousand 
native  Christians  discover  themselves  to  the  Bishop — Others  in- 
accessible— Japanese  sights  —  Vestiges  of  a  Jesuit  martyr  at 
Yedo 275 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


XXXV. 
THE     JAPANESE. 
Queer  !— Fusiyama  —  Japanese   art  —  Curiosity 
and  customs— Gin-rik-shars — Daibootz 


-Japanese   houses 
.     283 


XXXVI. 

YEDO. 

Mud  — Temples  of  Shiba  — Hair  top-knots  — Atogayama  — The 
"  burnt  district  "—A  chowchow  house— A  Japanese  theatre— A 
day  gained 2^, 

XXXVII. 
TWENTY-FIVE  DAYS  ON  THE  PACIFIC. 
The  waves   rise   and   the   rain   falls  — How  we  passed   the  time 
—  "You    savez"  — Sea-birds    and    their  flight  — April    Fool's 
^^^y 298 

XXXVIII. 
CHINESE    EMIGRANTS. 
The  '«  Alaska  "  and  her  Captain— The  Chinese  kitchen,  cabins,  and 
opium-smoking  room— Joyful  messengers— The  Golden  Gate- 
Counting  the  Chinamen— Ashore  at  last       .         .        .        .303 

XXXIX. 
FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  SARATOGA. 
The  Golden  City-A  kind  old  Dutchman-The  sea-lions— Across 
the    country  — Sierra    Nevadas-Salt    Lake   City  — Prairies  — 

Home  ! 

309 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Milan  Cathedral, 

The  Embarkatio' 

The  Quarter-Deck,  at  Sea, 

Loch  Katrine.    . 

Map   of   the  Vicinity   of  Ardnache. 

Hotel  at  the  Trossachs, 
Fingal's  Cave,     . 
EDiNBriiCH  Castle  and  Scott  Monument, 
Highlander, 
Holyrood  Palace, 

Edinburgh  Castle,  and  Grass  Market. 
The  Old  Tolbooth,  . 
Abbotts  ford, 
Dryburgh  Abbey, 
The  Giant's  Causeway,    . 
Dublin,  from  Phcenix  Park, 
Ross  Castle, 
Irish  Jauniing-Car, 
York  Minster,    . 
Ely  ':athedral,  . 

KENIL7/0RTH   CASTLE, 

Warwick  Castle, 
Shakespeare's  Tomb,         .      ,., 

London  Bridge 

Water-Lily,  Zoological  Gardens, 
House  of  Parliament,      .       .       ' 
The  Tower  of  London, 
Rheinfels,    . 

•  •  •  • 

Stolzenfels. 

Rheinstein,  .... 
Oberwesel,    ..."        * 
Ruins  of  the  Drachenfels,    [       [ 
The  Walls  and  Moat,  Nuremberg, 
The  Splugen  Pass, 
Lucerne,      .       . 


anachrochan 


Frontispiece 


4 
8 

20 


26 

34 
36 

39 
40 

41 
42 
44 
46 
48 
50 
54 
58 
62 

65 
68 

71 
73 
74 
76 

n 

8r 

94 
96 
98 

ICX) 

103 
105 
120 
124 


XX  L^^T  OF  ILLUSTRA  TIONS. 

Cascade— Alps, 130 

Milan  CATiir.DRAf,, 138 

Venice 147 

The  Rialto, 150 

Florence, 159 

Stage-Co  ACH, 163 

Baptistry  at  Pisa, 164 

Cathedral  at  Pisa 166 

Castle  of  San  Angelo, 170 

The  Last  Communion  of  St.  Jerome,  .       .       .       .173 

The  Nile, 175 

The  Torso  of  Hercules, 177 

St.  Peter's,  Vatican 179 

Laocoon, i8i 

Beatrice  Cenci, 186 

The  Coliseum, 198 

Ruins  of  Pompeii, 202 

Baths  of  Pompeii, 204 

Egyptian  V/oman, 215 

Shepherd's  Hotel,  Cairo,        ,        .        .        .        ,        .217 

Mosque,  Egypt, 220 

A  Street  in  Cairo, 222 

Dahabeih — the  Nile, 223 

A  Caravan, 237 

Suez  Canal  at  Ismailia, 259 

Night  at  Sea,  Indian  Ocean, 245 

Singapore 265 

Chinese  Towers, 268 

Chinese  Visiting, 270 

Temple,  with  Tombs  of  the  Mikados  at  Kamakura,  280 

FusiYAMA, 284 

A  Japanese  Garden, 286 

Daibootz,  the  Great  Statue  of  Buddha,  Japan,    .  289 

A  Chinese  Street  Scene 292 

Golden  Gate,  California 306 

Mission  Church,  San  Francisco, 310 

"         Restored,  San  Francisco,        .        .311 

The  Mormon  Tabernacle, 313 

Niagara  Falls, 314 

Rapids  of  Niagara, 315 

Walworth  Homestead,  Saratoga  Springs,        .       .  316 


I. 

AWAY! 


259 
245 

265 

268 

270 

180 

284 
!86 
289 
292 
306 
310 

311 
313 
314 

315 

316 


SCHOOL-GIRL  FANCIES — THEIR  FULFILMENT— SUMMONED  HOME— THE 
DECISION— ONLY  A  VALISE — PASSPORTS— UNCLE  AND  "  DITTO  " — THE 
STEAMER— BOUND  FOR  SCOTLAND — THE  LEAVING  AND  THE  LEFT — 
ADRIFT. 

Kenwood,  a  beautiful  convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart, 
is  perclied  on  a  thickly-wooded  hill  overlooking  the 
Hudson  river.  Eight  or  nine  busy,  happy  mo  iths 
had  already  passed  since  the  summer  vacation.  It 
was  June  —  too  warm  and  lovely  a  month,  I  thought, 
to  pore  over  books.  Sitting  at  my  desk  in  the  study- 
hall,  how  many  times  my  eyes  wandered  from  the 
pages  before  me  to  gaze  listlessly  out  of  the  window — • 
over  the  little  village  of  Kenwood,  over  the  green  cab- 
bage and  potato-fields,  and  across  the  sparkling  blue 
river  down  which  the  great  white  "day -boat"  was 
steaming  its  way  towards  New  York,  and  little  tugs 
were  puffing  here  and  there.  I  heeded  not  the  shrill 
whistle  of  the  train  as  it  rushed  across  the  fair  land- 
scape, bound  for  the  great  West,  leaving  behind  a  trail 
of  snow-white  smoke  which  floated  a  moment  in  the 
air,  then  vanished.  Even  the  giant  Catskills  which 
guarded  the  southern  horizon  —  the  only  dreamy,  elf- 
haunted  region  in  this  section  of  the  New  World  — 
standing  in  misty  contrast  to  the  busy,  enterprising 
scene  before  me,  were  unable  to  arrest  the  flight  of  my 
school-girl  fancies,  and  bring  my  thoughts  back  to  the 
task  before  me.     But  after  all,  my  mind  is  not  so  far 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


.«»■«, 


away  from  my  lersons  as  one  might  suppose.  Look  at 
the  books  on  my  desk — the  open  atlas  !  I  was  study- 
ing it  a  moment  ago,  but  now  I  am  gazing  far  over,  be- 
yond those  gray  Catskills,  where  the  map  of  the  whole 
world  is  laid  out  before  me;  and  see!  my  History  of 
England,  with  all  its  romance,  my  Mythology  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  and  all  the  books  of  travel  and  adventure 
I  have  ever  read,  are  twining  themselves  through  my 
Geography  lesson.  It  is  no  longer  a  dull,  flat  page. 
The  mountains  rise  towards  the  sky  ;  the  rivers  flow 
rapidly  to  the  great  surging  ocean ;  the  yellow  and  red 
of  the  different  countries  turn  into  green  fields,  with 
winding  roads  leading  to  picturesque  ruins — or  else 
scorching,  sandy  deserts,  with  oases  and  palm  trees; 
the  little  round  dots  grow  into  magnificent  cities  with 
spires  and  domes,  streets  crowded  with  strange-looking 
people,  and  picture-galleries  lined  with  wonderful  faces 
peering  at  me  from  the  time-worn  canvas — the  works 
of  the  Old  Masters.  Such  was  the  vague  picture  I 
drew  for  myseli  that  day  of  the  Old  World — that  far 
away,  enchanted  region.  Everything  was  misty,  veiled, 
indefinite,  unsatisfactory — I  only  knew  that  the  reality 
must  be  beautiful,  wonderful.  I  should  see  it  all  some 
day — yes,  some  time  in  th  2  dim  future,  so  I  told  myself. 
When  ?  ho\7  ?  with  whom  ?  These  were  questions  to 
be  answered  when  the  time  came.  Little  dreamed  I 
that  even  then  a  message  was  speeding  onward  through 
the  mail — a  message  for  me  which  was  to  answer  the 
when  ?  how  ?  with  whom  ? 

After  dinner,  when  we  were  all  out  at  recreation, 
Madam  appeared,  coming  from  the  house  with  a  pack- 
age of  letters  in  her  hand.  She  was  soon  discovered 
and  hailed  with  a  shout  from  the  children.  The  next 
moment  she  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  eager  faceS; 
and  amidst  a  profound  hush  one  name  after  another 


AW^AY. 


was  read  slowly  and  distinctly,  each  bcinjj  followed  by 
an  exclamation  of  delight  from  the  happy  recipient  and 
a  groan  of  disappointment  from  the  others.  The  last 
letter  having  been  claimed  and  carried  off,  I  was  about 
to  walk  sadly  away,  when  Madam  called  my  name. 

"  Nelly,"  she  said,  **  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from 
your  mother.  You  a  e  to  go  home  on  the  two  o'clock 
train — run  quick  and  get  ready!  " 

To  my  startled  look  of  inquiry,  she  ans^vered,  "  No 
bad  news  ;  your  uncle  is  going  to  Europe." 

There  was  no  time  for  explanations,  and  away  I  ran, 
delighted  at  the  prospect  of  a  few  days  at  home.  Uncle 
was  making  his  farewell  visit,  and  of  course  I  was  going 
to  bid  hm  good-bye.  In  the  convent  parlor  I  found 
some  one  waiting  to  accompany  me.  A  few  hours  on 
the  cars  brought  us  to  Saratoga ;  a  few  minutes*  walk 
and  we  were  in  sight  of  the  dear  old  place  under  the 
pine  trees.  My  little  brother  and  sister  who  ran  to 
meet  us  exclaimed : 

"You're  going  to  Europe!"  "Yes,  going  with  un- 
cle." To  my  incredulous  shake  of  the  head  they  only 
protested  the  more,  and  led  me  forcibly  into  the  house 
to  see  for  myself.  All  was  soon  explained.  It  was 
true  !  Uncle  had  a  year's  "  leave  of  absence  "  from  his 
parish.  He  was  going  .ibrcad  for  health  and  recrea- 
tion, and  had  offered  to  take  me  with  him.  We  were  to 
start  in  two  or  three  weeks.  "Are  you  willing  to  go?" 
I  was  asked. 

"Willing!  indeed  I  am  willing." 

"  But  are  you  not  afraid  to  go  away  from  home  for 
so  long?" 

"  No,  no,"  said  I.  "  Is  a  year  of  travel  longer  than 
a  year  at  boarding-school  ?  " 

And  so  it  was  decided  I  should  go. 

I  looked  on  complacently  while  mother  planned  and 


■aBKHowaaa 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


purchased  my  necessary  outfit  with  great  good  manage- 
ment, and  I  wondered  to  see  so  many  things  packed 
away  in  a  small  valise,  ihc  only  baggage  Uncle  wished 
me  to  take.  Afterwards,  as  the  various  articles  of  our 
wardrobe  wore  out,  we  replaced  them  with  whatever 
available  garments  we  could  find  in  the  place  we  hap- 
pened to  be  visiting,  so  that  on  reaching  home  after  our 
travels  we  were  clothed  in  the  rairi:ent  of  many  coun- 
tries. 

At  Albany  I  accompany  Uncle  to  the  bank  to  sign  my 
name  to  the  "letter  of  credit."  In  New  York  we  wait 
several  days  for  our  passport,  in  which  my  resem.blance 
to  my  uncle  is  curiously  demonstrated.  He  is  described 
as  having  brown  hair,  blue  eyes,  aquiline  nose,  small 
mouth.  I  am  described  as  "ditto."  The  points  of 
difference,  nevertheless,  are  quite  as  striking  as  those 
of  similarity:  he  being  very  tall — I  very  short;  his 
hair  just  lightening  into  gray — mine  just  darkening 
into  brown. 

We  make  no  plans  beyond  the  immediate  voy- 
age, determining,  like  the  veritable  truants  we  are,  to 
follow  the  bent  of  our  inclinations  when  v/e  reach  the 
other  shore  of  the  Atlantic.  The  final  preparations 
are  made ;  and  on  a  bright  summer  morning.  Uncle 
and  I,  each  with  a  valise,  a  shawl-strap,  and  an  umbrella, 
stand  among  the  passengers  on  the  deck  of  an  ocean 
steamer  about  to  sail  for  Scotland.  The  wharf  is 
crowded  with  people,  and  we  are  leaning  over  the 
railing,  talking  with  the  friends  who  have  gathered  to 
see  us  off.  Suddenly  the  signal  to  move  is  given : 
"  All  aboard ! "  roars  a  harsh  voice,  and  amidst  the 
rushing  of  many  feet,  the  clanking  of  chains,  the  haul- 
ing of  ropes,  the  puffing  of  steam,  and  the  muffled 
rumbling  of  machinery,  we  move  slovvly  out  to  sea. 
Handkerchiefs   are   waving;    friends   are   gazing    anx- 


\ 


I 


•I 
i 

i 


V 


in 


po 


1- 


A  WA  V. 


iously  at  each  other,  many,  perhaps,  for  the  last 
time;  and  farewell  messages  are  sent  from  one  to  an- 
other across  the  rapidly  increasing  space  between  the 
leaving  and  the  left.  Voices  can  no  longer  be  heard, 
and  the  handkerchiefs  wave  more  frantically  than  ever ; 
faces  fade  in  the  distance  ;  individuals  become  indistin- 
guishable ;  we  see  only  a  dense,  dark  mass  of  human 
beings  with  a  waving  white  surface.  I  continued  to 
v/atch  one  handkerchief,  lower  than  the  rect,  which  my 
little  brother,  standing  near  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  has 
been  waving  ever  since  we  started.  We  strain  our  eyes 
in  that  direction  until  we  can  no  longer  distinguish  the 
place  where  they  stand,  then  slowly  turn  away  to  watch 
the  scenery. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  last  view  of  New  York, 
nor  how  strangely  I  felt  as  the  city  gradually  dis- 
appeared in  the  distance  until  nothing  was  visible  but 
a  confused  mass  of  buildings,  with  spires  and  domes 
rising  here  and  there.  We  were  soon  past  Governor's 
Island  and  the  Narrows,  then  Sandy  Hook,  and  now  we 
were  really  on  the  ocean,  with  no  land  in  sight,  save 
the  low  banks  of  Long  Island,  which  stretched  along 
on  the  left  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  These  also 
grew  fainter  until  nothing  could  be  seen  but  a  pale 
streak  of  blue  along  the  horizon,  which  was  lost  sight 
of  entirely,  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  O,  the 
feeling  of  desolation  that  comes  over  one  as  the  last 
point  of  Urra  Jirma  disappears  below  the  horizon ! 
Covmtry,  kindred,  all,  are  sinking,  vanishing  into  the  sea 
with  the  fading  shore — away  from  one's  grasp,  out  of 
one's  sight.  It  is  as  if  the  great,  blue  dome  of  heaven 
were  pressing  down  the  land  until  its  base  rests  on  the 
water,  and  sea  and  sky  meet,  clasp,  mingle,  and  lock 
one  into  a  vast,  mighty  prison,  to  toss  about  helplessly 
until  the  great  blue  curtain  shall  be  lifted  on  another 


''.B| 


ill 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 

shore,   and   the   portals    opened    into    strange    coun- 
tries. 

But  now  I  stand  leaning  over  the  stern  of  the  vessel, 
looking  back,  and  trying  to  pierce  the  thickening  twi- 
light, to  see — ocean  and  air,  ocean  and  air,  to  feel — that 
we  are  drifting  away,  away,  away ! 


II. 


AT   SEA. 


"WE  MET  BY  CHANCE  — OVERBOARD  — THE  CAPTAIN  S  CABIN— PETRELS 
AND  PORPOISES — A  COiiY  T'.A-PARTY — OLD  NEPTUNE's  SHOWER-HATH — 
"FIFTH  mate"— PILGRIMS — SOUNDING — A  ROUNDABOUT  DANCE— A 
MARINE  POEM — SHIP-CROQUET — TAG — AN  IMPROMPTU  MASQUERADE 
—  LAND. 

While  still  buried  in  these  melancholy  reflections,  I 
was  startled  by  a  tap  on  the  shoulder.  I  turned  round, 
and  what  was  my  delight  on  recognizing  Mary  M.,  a 
former  school-mate !  ''  Why  I  "  said  I,  ''  what  a  pleasant 
surprise  !     I  had  no  idea  you  were  going  abroad." 

"  Yes ;  father  has  often  wished  to  visit  his  old 
home  in  Ireland,  which  he  left  when  he  was  a  very 
little  boy.  We  are  going  tliere  now,  and  shall  land  at 
Londonderry." 

"  What  an  interesting  trip  it  will  be  for  you  !  " 

"  Indeed  it  w'll !  But  you — I  thought  you  were  still 
at  the  Convent." 

"  So  I  was,  until  the  other  day,  when  I  started  off  in 

the.  midst  of  a  half-learned  lesson.     Do  you  remember 

how,  at  recreation,  we  used  to  dance  round  in  a  ring, 

singing,— 

"  '  The  bear  went  over  the  mountain, 
To  see  what  he  could  see.' 

Well,  following  his  admirable  example,  I  am  going  over 
the  ocean  for  precisely  the  same  purpose.  But  isn't  it 
fortunate  we  happened  to  meet  ?  It  will  make  the  voy- 
age so  much  pleasanter." 

■      -  \  (7) 


i 


MM 


8 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


"Yes — and  see!  father  has  discovered  your  uncle, 
and  is  talking  with  him." 

As  neither  of  us  were  in  a  very  lively  mood  that 
evening,  we  remained  standing  at  the  stern  and  amused 
ourselves  studying  geography  in  the  clouds.  The  in- 
creasing motion  of  the  vessel  caused  Mary  to  feel 
*'  rather  uncomfortable  ;"  so,  loosening  a  very  pretty 
salts-bottle  which  some  kind  friend  had  fastened  to  my 
chatelain,  just  as  we  were  starting,  I  was  about  to  offer 
it  to  her,  when,  alas !  the  ship  gave  a  sudden  lurch,  and 
it  slipped  from  my  grasp  as  I  caught  at  the  railing  to 
steady  myself;  a  faint  cry  arose  of,  "Salts-bottle  over- 
board !  "  No  one,  however,  went  to  the  rescue,  and  the 
little  beauty  was  consigned  to  a  watery  grave. 

Mr.  M.  had  the  captain's  state-room,  but  he  ar- 
ranged so  that  Mary  and  I  could  have  it  together 
while  he  took  a  berth  somewhere  else.  This  cabin  was 
larger  than  the  others,  and  had  a  little  book-case  with 
drawers,  a  shelf,  and  a  cupboard,  besides  the  usual  con- 
veniences. The  berths  were  not  one  above  the  other, 
but  mine  lay  against  the  side  of  the  ship  "  fore  and 
aft,"  with  the  little  round  window  called  the  bull's-eye 
directly  over  it,  while  Mary's  was  across  the  state-room, 
at  right  angles  with  mine,  and  served  as  a  seat  in  the 
daytime.  Although  our  quarters  were  so  comfortable, 
comparatively  speaking,  I  made  very  little  use  of  them, 
for  the  ocean  air  seemed  to  invigorate  me,  and  as  soon 
as  I  went  on  deck,  although  I  might  feel  a  little 
squeamish  (as  an  old  Scotch  lady  on  board  expressed 
the  first  symptoms  of  sea-sickness),  I  revived  imme- 
diately. Several  ladies  on  board  determined  to  resist 
resolutely  "  paying  tribute  to  Neptune  "  (as  the  final 
overthrow  is  nautically  termed),  and  though  all  fought 
bravely  against  it,  I  was  the  only  one  from  whom  he 
did  not  receive  his  dues. 


i 


4 


1^ 


^^■■B«SlgW'iy.-w»a^T-;rjr™!ffl 


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■a 


A  T  SEA. 


The  crisp,  salt  sea  air  gives  one  an  appetite  which  is 
not  appalled  by  five  meals  a  day,  served  as  follows: 

Oatmeal  porridge  at  7  A.  M.  (to  which  I  _i::enerally 
preferred  a  morning  nap.) 

Breakfast  at  8.30  A.  M. 

Lunch        "  12.30  P.  M. 

Dinner       "   4       r.  M. 

Supper       ''    7       P.  j\r. 

The  first  night  that  I  "  went  to  bed  "  in  a  "  bunk"  it 
suggested  the  id  a  of  lying  in  a  coffin,  but  before  long 
I  found  that  it  was  large  enough  to  allow  me  to  be  toss- 
ed about.  My  first  action  on  awakening  in  the  morn- 
ing was  to  open  the  bull's-eye  and  inhale  the  cool,  fresh 
sea-breeze.  Mary  and  I  then  began  to  examine  our 
premises.  Wc  struck  a  bell  by  mistake,  not  knowing 
what  it  was.  When  the  boy  came,  we  did  not  wish  to 
appear  green,  and  asked  for  water  as  an  excuse. 

It  rained  all  that  day,  and  stormy  petrels,  or  Mother 
Gary's  chickens,  were  following  the  vessel.  When  they 
found  something  in  the  water,  they  would  gather  round 
and  seem  to  dance  a  jig  on  the  waves,  and  then  walk 
over  them  with  their  feet  spread  out  like  fans.  Por- 
poises were  also  seen  in  the  distance.  They  looked  like 
little  pigs  turning  somersaults  in  the  water. 

Before  lunch,  Mary  played  on  the  piano  and  sang, 
many  of  the  passengers  joining  in  some  national  airs. 
In  the  evening  the  captain  invited  five  or  six  of  us  into 
his  cabin  on  deck  to  take  tea  with  him.  It  was  a  very 
cozy  scene  as  we  sat  round  the  little  steam-heater,  lis- 
tening to  the  captain's  wonderful  stories  about  his 
adventures  off  the  Algerine  coast ;  and  we  were  waited 
on  by  a  funny,  wild-looking  little  cabin-boy  who  jump- 
ed as  if  he  were  shot  every  time  the  captain  gave  him 
an  order.  Even  the  drizzling  rain  and  the  heavy  fog 
seen  through  the  open  door  failed  to  damp  our  spirits. 


••-'■''"•  '1 II 


10 


AROUXD   'I HE   WORLD 


As  the  bells  sounded  eleven,  every  light  on  the  steamer 
was  extinguished,  and  all  retired  save  the  officer  on 
watch,  who  continued  to  pace  slowly  up  and  down  the 
bridge. 

I  awoke  in  the  morning  to  find  the  state-room  ver)- 
close.  On  opening  the  bull's-eye  I  received  an  unex- 
pected mouthful  of  salt  water,  for  the  waves  were  very 
high.  The  vessel  was  rolling  and  pitching  dreadfully, 
and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  dress  and  go  out  on  deck. 
I  took  a  run  up  and  down  with  the  captain,  who  was 
the  only  man  who  could  stand  ste  idy.  Then  I  felt 
very  adventurous.  Mary  and  I  wished  to  go  to  the  bow 
of  the  boat,  where  the  spray  was  dashing  over,  and  be- 
fore any  one  had  time  to  say  no,  we  were  off.  Just  as 
we  reached  the  forecastle,  she  gave  a  plunge,  and  a 
great  wave  came  dashing  over  the  bow ;  but  we  stoop- 
ed down  and  clung  to  the  mast,  which  protected  us 
from  the  force  of  the  wave,  so  we  only  got  a  delightful 
shower-bath.  In  the  meantime  we  were  so  completel) 
covered  with  the  spray  that  those  we  had  left  at  the 
other  end  could  not  see  us  at  all.  The  captain  was 
alarmed,  and  thinking  we  might  have  been  washed 
overboard,  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  toward  the  spot  where 
we  were  still-crouching.  We  just  tumbled  into  his  arms 
as  another  wave  sent  the  prow  of  the  vessel  high  into 
the  air,  and  the  mist  began  to  clear  away  so  that  we 
could  see. 

It  became  rougher  and  rougher,  until  we  were  obliged 
to  take  refuge  on  the  monkey-deck.  Only  six  or  eight 
of  the  passengers,  including  Uncle  and  myself,  were  not 
sea-sick,  and  we  sat  there  all  day  watching  the  waves 
dash  over  the  main  deck.  A  cold,  piercing  wind  was 
blowing  furiously,  and  I  was  wrapped  to  my  ears  in 
shawls  and  cloaks.  I  can  not  describe  the  grandeur  of 
the  ocean  on  that  day,  lashed  about  as  it  was  by  the 


.  /  T  SEA. 


II 


furious  blast,  nor  the  feeling  of  exultation  that  tingled 
in  every  fibre,  as  we  rode  triumphantly  through  those 
angry  waves.  One  moment  we  were  high  in  the  air  on 
an  immense  swell,  and  before  I  could  catch  my  breath, 
the  whole  deck  was  underwater.  Notwithstanding  the 
stormy  weather,  on  the  following  day  I  was  the  first 
lady  on  deck.  The  captain  said  I  was  a  first-rate  sailor, 
and  promised  to  make  me  his  "  fifth  mate." 

My  friend  Mary  and  I  spent  a  part  of  the  evening  in 
a  little  sitting-room  appropriated  to  the  stewardess. 
She  was  a  Scotch  girl,  whose  English  was  at  first 
difficult  to  understand,  but  as  there  were  many  of  her 
countrymen  on  board,  the  accent  soon  became  familiar. 
She  was  very  fond  of  '*  Robby  Burns,"  as  she  called 
him,  and  often  quoted  his  poems.  This  evening  she 
sang  many  old  Scotch  ballads  and  songs  with  the  real 
national  brogue,  which  made  them  sound  very  sweetly. 

Sunday  we  were  near  the  Banks  of  Newfoundhmd, 
and  it  was  so  foggy  we  could  only  see  a  few  yards 
around  the  ship.  The  shrill  fog-whistle  sounded  in  our 
ears  every  few  minutes.  After  awhile  it  cleared  off  a 
little,  the  wind  shifted  in  the  right  direction,  all  the 
sails  were  hoisted,  and  the  vessel  glided  majestically 
over  the  water. 

We  found  that  among  our  passengers  was  a  woman 
and  her  nephew,  a  little  cripple,  making  a  pilgrimage  to 
Lourdes,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  his  cure.  She  had 
been  hoarding  her  small  savings  a  long  time  to  make 
this  journey.    Truly  her  faith  deserved  to  be  rewarded  I 

Rough,  wet,  foggy  weather  continued  for  several  days 
while  we  were  on  the  banks,  and,  as  they  sounded  many 
times,  I  obtained  a  little  black  pebble  that  came  up 
from  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  The  lead  our  sailors 
used  was  a  patented  affair,  with  a  little  wheel  that  stops 
revolving  when  it  reaches  the  bottom.     There  is  an  in- 


F2 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


dex  at  the  other  end  showing  the  depth  of  the  water 
by  the  number  of  revolutions  the  wheel  makes.  At- 
tached to  the  lead  is  some  greasy  substance,  and  the 
pebbles  and  sand  adhering  to  it  show  the  kind  of  bot- 
tom :  when  nothing  comes  up,  the  lead  has  touched 
solid  rock. 

One  evening  when  the  fog  had  cleared  away  we  went 
on  deck  after  nine  o'clock,  and  the  colored  lights  of  the 
sunset  were  still  lingering  in  the  west.  As  we  steered 
further  to  the  north,  the  days  became  even  longer. 
When  we  came  down  from  the  '*  cold  light  of  stars," 
the  bright  saloon  presented  quite  a  pretty  picture — 
the  passengers  grouped  about  the  room  and  engaged  in 
playing  whist,  muggins,  chess,  cribbage,  and  other 
games.  They  were  all  v<Ty  quiet,  and  the  captain,  who 
is  full  of  fun  £.nd  a  real  jolly  Scotchman,  wished  to 
rouse  them  ;  so  he  asked  Mary  M.  to  play  a  polka,  and. 
choosing  me  for  a  p^.rtner,  we  began  to  dance  very  fast 
indeed.  The  captain  was  short  and  very  broad,  with  a 
merry,  sunburnt  face,  and  this  evening  he  wore  his  tight 
little  uniform  coat,  which  made  him  look  shorter  and 
more  comic.il  than  ever.  It  was  no  easy  thing  to  dance 
in  a  room  \Mth  three  long  tables  and  four  brass  posts^ 
while  the  ship  was  rocking.  He  was  very  expert,  how- 
ever, and  understood  the  motion  of  the  vessel  so  well 
that  he  knew  just  when  to  turn  a  corner  (and  there  were 
plenty  of  them)  without  being  jolted  against  some- 
thing. We  fairly  flew  around,  in  one  door  and  out  at 
another,  until  every  one  was  in  a  roar  of  laughter.  It 
caused  a  great  deal  of  fun,  and  after  that  evening  they 
danced  quite  often.  The  captain  taught  us  several 
Scotch  country  dances. 

The  officer  on  watch  during  ihe  night  would  some- 
times tell  us  of  the  glorious  sunrise  he  had  seen.  In  a 
moment  of  enthusiasm  we  all  determined  to  rise  early 


//  T  SFA. 


13 


tlie  next  morning  to  witness  one.  Tlic  following  poem 
was  written  by  our  first  mate  in  honor  of  the  great 
occasion  : 

AN  OCEAN  SUNRISE. 

AT  THREE  O'CLOCK   IN    THE   MORNING 


The  passengers  had  orders  given 
The  mate,  the  previous  night  at  seven, 
That  one  and  all  wished  to  be  riven 
From  out  their  bunks,  and  upward  driven. 
To  see  a  sunrise  in  the  heaven 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

At  half-past  two  or  thereabout. 
Sure  there  he  was,  without  a  doubt, 
Rap|)'d  at  each  door  and  gave  a  shout, 
Advising  all  in  terms  devout, 
T(3  rise,  and  see  the  sun  "  turn  out " 

/;t  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Of  sleepy-heads  there  were  a  lot, 
vVliu  vainly  tried  to  leave  their  cot; 
But  sleep  the  upper  hand  had  got, 
And  chained  them  firmly  to  the  spot. 
So  covering  up  their  heads,  forgot 

'Twas  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Still  there  were  plenty  who  arose 
According  as  they  did  propose. 
And  dressed  themselves  in— goodness  knows  ! 
I  think  'twas  principally  bed-clothes. 
Eager  to  see  Apollo's  nose 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Miss  Walworth  rose,  and  Miss  McHugh, 
Miss  Logic,  and  Miss  \^^iison,  too — 
The  latter  daily  robed  in  blue  ; 
But  somehow  she  had  quite  fell  thro* 
Her  style,  and  dressed  in  something  new 
At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 


%\ 


14 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 

Miss  Mills  and  Mrs.  Buel  were 
With  Mrs.  Strauss,  assembled  there, 
Upon  the  monkey-deck,  I  swear, 
A-shivering  from  the  morning  air. 
It  was  a  wonderful  affair 
To  see  them  with  disheveled  hair, 
Watching  an  ocean  sunrise  rare. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 

Miss  Achurst  and  Miss  Parsons  both 
Got  up  at  last,  though  very  loth. 
And  came  on  deck,  .irrayed  in — troth, 
A  something  like  a  table-cloth, 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Of  gentlemen  we'd  quite  a  crowd, 
With  voices  chattering  very  loud, 
And  who  unanimously  vowed 
They  felt,  indeed,  extremely  proud 
They'd  seen  the  sun  begild  a  cloud, 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

There  l-'ather  Walworth,  Mr.  Hughes, 
Behind  a  "  bull's-eye  "  small  did  choose 
'1  he  beauteous  sunrise  to  peruse. 
Protected  from  the  chilling  dews. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

15ut  Mr.  Galbraith  didn't  mind 

The  dews,  the  shower,  the  bracing  wind. 

For  fortunately  he  did  find 

A  sure  protection  from  behind 

A  lady  fair,  who  was  so  kind. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Fully  an  hour  they  had  ♦o  sit, 
Before  the  "glorious  orb  "  thought  fit 
His  watery  lodging-house  to  quit. 
And  show  himself  a  little  bit, 
Until  I  really  think,  that  it 

Was  long  past  three  in  the  morning. 


w  ii-*i?  ■'***■■-'.<-■ '  s^¥*^**^'« 


AT  SEA.  ij; 

And  just  as  he  bep^an  to  rise, 
Tinging  with  gold  the  eastern  skies, 
Unfortunately— bless  my  eyes  ! 
A  rain-shower  took  (hem  by  surprise, 
And  penetrated  their  disguise, 

At  hall-past  three  that  morning. 

They  waited — well  I  it  must  be  said, 
Till  they  got  we*;  from  foot  to  head, 
And  then  they  all  got  up  and  fled, 
Skedaddling  every  one  to  bed, 

At  half  past  three  in  the  morning. 

Sea  air  is  not  very  good  for  the  ccmplexion,  and  after 
II  few  days  in  the  wind  everybody  had  a  red  nose  ;  the 
skin  soon  began  to  peel  off,  giving  one  much  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  baked  potato.  Mine  was  worse  than  any 
of  the  others  after  that  day  on  the  monkey-deck. 

A  pleasant  pastime  was  a  game  called  shuffle-board, 
or  ship  croquet.  One  of  the  sailors  chalked  a  figure 
very  much  like  hop-scotch  on  the  floor  of  the  deck. 
We  played  with  round,  smooth,  flat  pieces  of  wood, 
instead  of  balls  ;  and  long  sticks  widened  at  the  lower 
end  to  push  them  along,  took  the  place  of  mallets.  It 
required  a  very  steady,  straight  shot  to  knock  the  blocks 
on  a  high  number,  and,  besides,  one  had  to  watch  the 
motion  of  the  vessel,  or  they  rolled  off  to  one  side. 
One  evening  a  sailor  played  on  a  bag-pipe  while  the 
others  danced  a  Scotch  jig  on  the  deck. 

The  rough,  stormy  part  of  the  voyage  was  now  over. 
Day  after  day  we  drifted  on  in  happy  listlessness,  and 
although  the  wind  blew,  and  the  sky  was  blue,  and  the 
ocean  was  bluer  still,  the  merry  little  band  of  passen- 
gers never  once  yielded  to  the  blues.  Thrown  con- 
stantly into  each  other's  society,  and  sharing  alike  wind 
and  waves,  fog  and  sunshine,  fear  and  frolic,  they  be- 
came  more  and  more  like  old  ^miliar  friends.     Even 


i6 


AROUND    rill:    IVOR  ID. 


some  of  the  more  dignified  married  ladies  occasionally 
joined  the  captain  and  the  young  people  in  playing 
"  tag  "  around  the  deck  —  in  and  out  doors,  up  and 
down  hatchways,  until  I  doubt  if  the  fishes  and  the 
sea-birds  ever  before  witnessed  such  sport,  or  heard 
such  shrieks  of  laughter  breaking  upon  the  calm  and 
stillness  of  the  ocean. 

One  evening,  when  amusements  began  to  lag,  some 
one  suggested  that  we  should  get  up  a  masquerade  for 
the  following  night.  The  idea  was  greeted  v,  '^  great 
applause,  and  all  agreed  to  join  in  the  fun.  i\  commit- 
tee of  ladies,  with  the  "  fifth  mate  "  for  spokesman,  then 
marched  off  to  gain  the  captain's  approval.  A  little 
coaxing  brought  him  over  to  our  side,  and  entering 
heart  and  soul  into  the  spirit  of  it,  he  did  much  more 
than  we  had  expected.  The  next  afternoon  the  saloon 
was  cleared  of  everjthing  but  the  four  brass  posts,  and 
was  draped  artistically  with  American  and  British  flags, 
while  a  handsome  throne  was  erected  at  the  farther  end. 
A  reverend  and  dignified  gentleman  spent  the  whole 
day  making  comical  masks  of  brov/n  paper  and  colo:  vi 
paint.  The  costumes  were  composed  of  whatever  r 
terials  happened  to  be  at  hand — traveling  wraps,  bright 
colored  petticoats,  sheets  and  pillow-cases,  bed  curtains, 
paper,  night-cnps,  sailor-clothes,  etc.  We  formed  our- 
selves into  "  mutual  aid  "  companies  of  four  or  five,  each 
band  to  keep  their  own  costumes  secret,  and  as  all  were 
thoroughly  masked,  the  fun  was  immense. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  summons  to  ap- 
pear resounded  through  the  vessel.  Strange,  wild-look- 
ing forms  issued  from  the  state-rooms  and  placed  them- 
selves in  order  of  procession  along  the  narrow  passage. 
"  Queen  Victoria  "  was  enthroned  at  the  end  of  the 
saloon,  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  retinue,  and  smiling 
graciously  and   majestically  upon   her   grotesque   sub- 


A  T  SEA. 


17 


jects,    as   they  appeared   two    by  two,   and  were    an- 
nounced in  stentorian  tones  by  the  captain. 

Doctor  Punch,  Mother  Goose,  Captain  Jinks,  Poca- 
hontas the  royal  squaw,  Hoky  Poky,  and  the  Heathen 
Chinee,  appeared  in  quick  succession.  Next  came  a 
gentleman  with  a  prominent  nose,  decked  in  red  flan- 
\\q\.  tights  and  a  waving  plume,  who  strutted  proudly 
on  in  the  conceit  of  personating  Romeo.  But  unlucky 
slip  I  the  captain  roars  out,  **  P^oman  nose  !"  and  in 
this  character  the  crestfallen  gallant  kneels  before  his 
queen.  He  was  followed  by  the  Girl  of  the  Period,  by 
whose  side  hobbled  Old  Mother  Hubbard  of  a  very 
different  period.  But,  behold  !  A  mighty  nose,  con- 
sisting of  a  raw  Irish  potato  of  enormous  proportions, 
appears  upon  the  scene,  followed  by  Solomon  Levi,  its 
happy  possessor.  It  requires  all  the  muscular  exertion 
of  the  said  gentleman  to  keep  himself  on  "  even  keel," 
under  such  a  weight  of  responsibility.  A  Merry  An- 
drew with  a  Mun,  a  Quakeress  hanging  on  the  arm  of 
Captain  Jack  of  the  Modocs,  now  enter,  followed  by 
many  others. 

Merry  Andrew  and  Mother  Goose  begin  the  dancing 
by  an  original  jig,  followed  by  quadrilles,  Virginia  reels, 
country  dances,  and  polkas,  which  were  danced  in  quick 
succession  until  it  neared  the  "  witching  hour  of  night," 
when  witches,  ghosts,  and  goblins  joined  in  singing 
"Auld  Lang  Syne,"  and  vanished  from  th"  scene. 

But  our  ocean  days  were  rapidly  drawing  to  a  close. 
The  frequent  sails,  the  land  birds,  and  the  preparations 
on  ship-board,  all  told  us  we  were  nearing  our  destina- 
tion. When  land  first  came  in  sight  we  sat  watching  it 
all  day.  We  passed  between  the  northern  coast  of  Ire- 
land and  several  islands  on  the  other  side.  We  did  not 
stop  at  Londonderry,  as  we  expected,  but  went  directly 
to  Glasgow  to  catch  the  tide  and  get  in  a  day  sooner. 

I  think  two  weeks  are  long  enough  to  be  at  sea. 


"semmmm 


!  I 


1 1 


T 


III. 


SOUTH-EASTERN   SCOTLAND. 

rilE  CI.YDK — DUMBARTON  CASTLE— A  GRAY  CIT/ — BONNINGTON  LINN^ 
— CAVK  OF  SIR  WILLIAM  WALLACE — "LAND  OF  BURNS"  —  FASTER 
THAN  I  AM  O'SHANTER  —  LOCH  LOMOND  —  A  TONY  RIDE  IN  THE 
CLOUDS — A  GLANCE  FROM  SEA  TO  SEA  —  EXPLORING  ELLEN's  I' LE — 
FOLLOWING  IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OK  RODERICK  DHU  AND  FITZ  JAMES — 
A  VILLAGE  OF  KNOW-NOTHINGS  —  SCOTCH  CHILDREN  —  STIRLING 
CASTLE— FAMILIAR  FACES. 

We  passed  up  the  Clyde  very  early  in  the  morning, 
and  were  all  un  deck  to  see  the  scenery,  of  which  we 
had  heard  so  much.  I  was  greatly  disappointed  ;  it 
could  not  be  compared  with  the  Hudson.  The  river 
is  very  narrow  and  hard  to  navigate,  and  the  water  a 
muddy,  coffee  color. 

We  passed  Dumbarton  Castle,  or,  rather,  all  of  it  that 
remains.  It  was  built  on  a  high,  rugged  rock  that 
stands  out  boldly  in  the  water.  I  am  not  sure  whether 
it  is  a  peninsula  or  an  'sland,  but  in  either  case,  it  looks 
impregnable.  A  part  of  the  old  wall  and  batteries  are 
standing  near  the  base,  and  directly  over  them  a  more 
modern  house  has  been  built,  which  looked,  to  me 
more  like  a  soap  factory  than  anything  else.  This  was 
at  first  pointed  out  as  the  Castle,  and  all  the  romance 
associated  with  it  was  immediately  destroyed ;  but  as 
we  advanced,  so  that  we  could  see  the  other  side  of  the 
rock,  a  turret  and  a  few  stones,  one  above  the  other, 
became  visible  as  the  ruins  of  this  great  stronghold  of 
Scotland.  >*  " 

(i8) 


SOUTH-EASTERN  SCOTLAND. 


^9 


4 

1 
Iff 


When,  at  last,  wc  disembarked,  we  had  to  stand  in 
the  rain  while  a  Custom  House  officer  examined  our 
baggage,  and  it  was  yet  many  a  day  before  we  **  set 
foot  on  dry  land."  After  a  time  of  dreary  waiting,  we 
managed  to  get  a  cab  and  drive  to  the  hotel. 

Glasgow  is  the  smokiest,  foggiest,  soot'est  place  I 
have  ever  seen.  The  houses  are  all  built  of  gray  stone, 
and  everything  is  gray — the  streets,  the  pavements,  the 
sky,  and  the  smoke.  After  seeing  more  of  it,  however, 
we  found  it  to  be  a  very  handsome  city;  large,  well- 
paved,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  streets  near  the 
river,  very  clsan- — much  cleaner,  indeed,  than  many 
of  the  people.  Everybody  looks  "  as  old-fashioned 
as  the  iiills,"  and  the  lower  class  of  women  and  chil- 
dren, all  go  barefooted.  I  think  the  "bonnie  Scotch 
lassies "  are  very  few,  for  I  never  before  saw  a  more 
homely  set  of  young  Vvomen.  We  visited  the  old 
cathedral,  a  magnificent  Gothic  structure,  with  a  mas- 
sive, mysterious,  and  ghostly  crypt.  It  is  difficult  to 
form  an  idea  of  what  it  really  is,  without  actually  seeing 
it;  and  the  pictures  for  sale,  make  it  look  l-ke  a  hand- 
some railroad  depot. 

From  Glasgow  we  made  a  trip  to  Lanark  and  the 
Falls  of  the  Clyde,  which  was  very  interesting.  The 
village  itself  is  a  quaint  old  place,  with  thatched  roofs 
and  crooked,  irregular  streets,  while  the  whole  country 
round  is  a  perfect  picture.  After  dining  at  the  Clydes- 
dale Inn,  we  drove  about  two  miles  in  a  phaeton,  over 
a  beautiful  road,  hedged  in  on  cither  side,  and  made  of 
crumbled  red  sandstone,  which  contrasted  very  prettily 
with  the  green  grass.  Wc  then  reached  the  gates  of 
Sir  Charles  Ross'  estate,  through  which  the  Clyde 
flows.  There  we  had  to  leave  the  horse,  and  walk, 
with  an  old  man  for  a  guide,  who  strided  on  before  us 
with  a  stick  and   an  umbrella.     This  reminds  me  that 


t^^wjuifva.    ^qpi 


■■■ 


20 


AROUND   THE   WO  RID. 


% 


the  people  here  never  think  of  going  out  without 
water-proofs,  umbrelhis,  and  all  the  conveniences,  or 
rather,  inconveniences,  for  damp  weather ;  it  rains 
almost  constantly,  sunshine  being  an  exception.  We 
had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  it  began  to  pour,  but 
we  continued  to  follow  a  winding  path,  finding  our- 
selves one  moment  down  near  the  water's  edge,  and 
the  next,  upon  a  high  precipice,  looking  at  the  river  a 
hundred  and  twerty  feet  below.  /\t  one  place  we  had 
to  cross  a  narrow  ledge,  with  the  water  roaring  and 
foaming  under  our  feet,  to  reach  Sir  William  Wallace's 
Cave.  It  is  a  round,  smooth  opening,  niched  deep  into 
the  rock,  where  the  great  Scottish  hero  hid  himself 
away  for  some  time,  to  escape  the  search  of  the  Eng- 
lish. If  discovered  in  that  retreat,  he  could  defend 
himself  against  a  whole  army.  Being  directly  over  the 
rapids,  it  can  not  be  reached  by  water,  and  only  one  at 
a  time  can  approach  by  the  rocky  ledge,  across  which 
we  now  cautiously  retraced  our  steps,  after  picking  an 
ivy  loaf  that  grew  near  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  At 
another  place,  we  passed  over  a  little  iron  bridge  on  to 
a  rocky  island,  and  just  as  we  looked  down  on  Bon- 
nington  Linn,  the  principal  fall,  the  sun  burst  from 
behind  a  cloud,  making  the  water  sparkle  and  dazzle 
like  a  shower  of  diamonds,  and  causing  a  rainbow  to 
appear  through  the  mist.  To  the  right  are  these  falls, 
and  wild,  steep  precipices  on  either  side  of  the  river, 
with  the  jagged  ruins  of  an  old  castle  on  the  shore ; 
while  to  the  left,  just  above  the  fall,  the  water  runs  as 
smooth  and  clear  as  glass,  with  green  banks  sloping 
gently  towards  the  river,  and  cattle  and  sheep  grazing 
under  the  trees.     It  was  a  remarkable  contrast. 

One  day  we  went  to  Ayr,  to  see  the  "  Land  of  Burns." 
The  cottage  where  he  was  born  is  a  little  whitewashed, 
thatched  house  of  two  rooms.     The  one  in  which  he 


m 

1  % 

1  1 
■ 

^mi^mm 


SOUTH-EASTERN  SCOTLAND. 


21 


first  saw  light  (he  did  not  see  much  of  it,  for  the  only 
window  was  about  a  foot  square)  was  the  smallest,  and 
contained  some  of  the  old  furniture  —  the  wooden 
dresser,  the  broad  fireplace,  and  the  little  bed  built 
back  in  the  wall. 

We  went  inside  the  liurns  Monument,  and  saw  the 
old  Bible  he  presented  to  "  Highland  Mary,"  and  vari- 
ous other  relics.  , 

Alloway  Kirk  is  not  very  large ;  it  has  no  roof,  and 
one  end  is  overgrown  with  ivy.  The  old  bell  is  still 
hanging  over  the  front  of  the  building,  and  we  looked 
in  through  the  window  where  "  Tam  "  is  supposed  to 
have  watched  the  witches.  We  then  followed  down 
the  road  to  the  old  bridge  "  where  Maggie  lost  her  tail." 
U  was  very  amusing  to  hear  an  old  man,  our  guide  at 
the  Kirk,  repeat  snatches  of  "  Tam  O'Shantc  ,"  as  he 
pointed  out  the  scenes  of  the  poem.  He  jabbered  it 
off  so  fast  that  before  we  had  time  to  look  in  the  direc- 
tion ho  indicated,  he  had  finished  the  whole  scene  of 
the  witches,  and  Tam  was  safely  over  the  bridge. 
Burns'  poetry  is  hard  enough  to  read  and  uiiderstand, 
but  when  an  old  Scotchman  rattles  it  off,  it  is  like 
Hebrew. 

Wc  left  Glasgow  in  the  cars,  or  carriages  as  they  are 
called,  for  Balloch,  which  is  just  at  the  foot  of  Loch 
Lomond.  We  met  a  charming  English  lady  and  gentle- 
man in  our  compartment,  who  continued  to  travel  with 
us  several  weeks.  Scotland  is  noted  as  a  place  for 
meeting  pleasant  people,  and  we  were  particularly  for- 
tunate in  that  respect. 

We  took  passage  on  a  little  steamer  at  Balloch  to  go 
up  Loch  Lomond.  This  lake  is  wide  at  the  southern 
end,  and  contains  twenty-three  beautiful  little  islands. 
As  we  wound  in  and  out  among  them,  a  new  vista 
opened  every  moment,  and  a  continued  series  of  excla- 


22 


AROUiWD   THE   IVOh'/.D. 


mations  were  uttered  as  the  scene  varied.  At  length 
the  lake  became  narrower,  the  islands  almost  disap- 
peared, and  the  banks  on  either  side  became  high  and 
mountainous.  We  were  soon  among  the  Highlands, 
with  mountain  after  mountain  appearing  in  every  direc- 
tion, rising,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  lake;  some  smooth 
and  rounded,  others  steep  and  precipitous.  The  steam- 
boat stopped  at  several  landings,  where  a  few  pretty 
little  houses  were  built  in  a  valley,  at  the  foot  of  some 
high  peak.  About  an  hour  and  a  half  brought  us  to 
Rowardennan  pier,  lying  directly  under  Ben  Lomond, 
which  is  the  highest  mountain  but  one  in  Scotland. 
We  landed  at  the  spot  where  Rob  Roy  stood  and 
waved  good-bye  to  Frank  Osbaldistone,  when  he  was 
leaving  the  Highlands.  The  small  hotel,  where  we 
took  lunch,  stands  on  a  level  piece  of  ground  near  the 
lake. 

It  is  a  walk  of  four  miles  and  a  ride  of  six  miles  up 
Beh  Lomond.  Uncle  and  I  went  on  ponies,  while  the 
gentleman  who  accompanied  us  walked.  He  was  used 
to  such  tramps,  being  an  Englishman  and  having 
climbed  a  great  deal  in  Switzerland.  I  held  on  to  my 
pony  and  was  not  at  all  frightened,  though  he  went 
over  places  where  one  would  think  no  man  or  beast 
could  keep  his  footing ;  he  knew  the  way  better  than  I 
did,  so  I  made  no  attempt  to  guide  him.  These  ponies 
had  a  peculiar  fashion  of  stopping  to  eat  grass  or  ferns, 
even  at  the  most  dangerous  places,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  prevent  them.  It  became  quite  ridiculous  ;  and 
once  I  tried,  just  for  fun,  to  see  how  many  I  could 
count  between  each  bite.  *'  One,  two,  three,  four  " — 
down  goes  the  pony's  head  !  I  begin  over.  "  One,  two, 
three,  four,  five,  six,  seven  " — there  it  goes  again  !  I 
could  not  get  above  ten,  so  I  gave  it  up ;  and  turning 
to  the  Scotch  boy  who  acted  as  guide,  or  rather  walked 


SOUTH-EASTERN  SCOTLAND. 


23 


in  the  rear  of  the  ponies,  which  took  the  lead  and 
seemed  disposed  to  h;ive  their  own  way  generally : 

"  Have  they  been  fed  this  morning?"  I  asked. 

"  Yae,  lassie,"  he  replied. 

"Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  them  then?" 

"  I  dinna'  kcMi  ;  it's  a  way  they  hae." 

This  lad  seemed  to  think  that  all  difficulties,  whether 
relating  to  ponies,  mountains,  clouds,  or  anything  else, 
were  settled,  by  remarking,  conclusively,  "  It's  a  way 
they  hae."  We  soon  found  that  mountains  had  "  ways  " 
quite  as  tantalizing  as  ponies.  Just  as  we  thought  we 
were  nearing  the  top,  another  ridge  would  appear,  more 
steep  and  rugged  than  the  last,  and  so  we  were  deceived 
again  and  again,  until  we  thought  we  should  never 
reach  the  summit.  We  continued  to  climb  up,  up,  up, 
until  we  invaded  the  region  of  the  clouds ;  there  they 
lay,  all  around  us.  A  thick,  heavy  cloud  had  taken 
quiet  possession  of  the  very  summit  we  were  striving 
to  attain.  What !  baffled  by  a  cloud  ?  No,  indeed ! 
So  we  rode  boldly  into  the  very  midst  of  it,  mounted 
the  last  ascent,  and  stood  on  the  topmost  peak.  Ah ! 
but  we  were  baffled.  That  ugly,  gray  monster,  not 
content  with  hiding  the  entire  view,  wrapped  us  closer 
and  closer  in  his  damp  cloak,  causing  the  moisture  to 
penetrate  to  the  very  skin,  and  we  felt  his  cold,  clammy 
touch  on  our  faces  until  we  shivered  from  head  to  foot. 
The  wind,  too,  seemed  leagued  against  us,  cutting  us 
through  and  through  with  its  sharp,  bitter  blasts ;  and 
it  was  some  time  before  we  discovered  that,  on  the  con- 
trar)^,  it  was  doing  us  good  service.  It  rent  asunder 
the  gray  curtain  before  us,  now  here,  now  there,  and 
before  the  tattered  fragments  could  come  together 
again,  we  obtained  glimpses  of  the  lakes,  the  mountains, 
and  the  sky,  which  were  only  the  more  bewitching  be- 
cause so  transient.     Finally,  collecting  all  its  forces,  the 


24 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


wind  rushed  up  the  sides  of  the  mountain ;  the  heavy 
curtain  was  lifted  bodily  from  its  resting-place,  and  as 
it  rolled  slowly  up,  up,  up,  till  it  floated  high  above  our 
heads,  the  whole  grand  panorama  of  about  one-third  of 
Scotland  was  before  us.  There,  just  at  our  feet,  lay 
Loch  Lomond,  smooth  as  a  sheet  of  glass,  with  every 
island  so  dis  inct  that  it  was  impossible  to  realize  that 
they  were  more  than  three  thousand  feet  below  us. 
Beyond,  we  counted  eight  successive  chains  of  moun- 
tains, each  rising  higher  than  the  last.  To  the  south 
could  be  seen  the  river  Clyde  and  the  bold  rock  of 
Dumbarton  Castle,  and  further  still,  the  ocean  and  the 
Isle  of  Arran.  Eastward,  the  dim  outline  of  Stirling 
Castle  was  barely  visible  ;  and,  straining  or  °s  to  the 
horizon,  we  fancied  we  saw  the  Firth  of  Foiun,  mingling 
with  the  sky.  Thus  we  could  take  in  at  a  glance  the 
entire  breadth  of  Scotland,  from  sea  to  sea.  The  moun- 
tain on  which  we  stood  breaks  down  on  the  north  side 
in  a  precipice  of  two  thousand  feet,  at  the  foot  of 
which  is  a  beautiful  green  valley,  where  the  river  Forth 
has  its  source  in  a  mere  mountain  rill.  We  saw  Loch 
Katrine,  Loch  Ard,  the  Loch  of  Menteith,  and  several 
others  equally  beautiful,  lying  in  shadow  among  the 
Highlands,  in  different  directions. 

We  reached  the  hotel  again  at  about  six  o'clock,  with 
a  wonderful  appetite  for  dinner.  But  it  was  fully  a 
week  before  I  recovered  from  the  aching  effects  of  that 
pony  ride. 

Late  the  same  evening  we  went  rowing  on  Loch  Lo- 
mond. When  we  were  some  distance  up  the  lake.  Uncle 
determined  that  we  should  sail  back.  With  an  oar  for 
a  mast,  and  his  blanket-shawl  for  a  sail,  which  was  held 
by  the  little  boy  who  rowed  us  out,  and  who  took  the 
place  of  cords,  pulleys,  and  fastenings,  we  sailed  swiftly 
down  the  lake,  while  our  English  friend  sat  behind  and 
steered  with  the  other  oar. 


so  u rir-EA  s  tekx  sco  tla  nd. 


25 


Thcnext  day  welcft  on  a  steamer  for  Inversnaid,  where 
an  open  coach,  crowded  with  twenty  people,  took  us 
through  a  beautiful  glen.  Inversnaid  burn,  a  stream  of  the 
most  romantic  sort,  runs  through  the  glen,  while  the  road 
winds  up  and  down  through  all  kinds  of  perilous  places 
and  enchanting  scenes,  until  we  reach  Stronachlachcr, 
at  the  head  of  Loch  Katrine.  It  would  be  worse  than 
useless  for  me  to  attempt  a  description  of  this  lovely 
lake  or  its  mighty  portals,  Ben  An  and  Ben  Venue, 
which  seemed  now  to  frown,  and  now  to  smile  upon  us 
as  we  passed  between  them,  close  to  Ellen's  Isle,  then 
hurried  on  through  the  Trossachs,  and  just  at  nightfall 
reached  the  Ardnacl  anachrochan  Hotel,  built  with 
turrets  and  towers  in  the  Scotch  baronial  style,  and 
situated  on  Loch  Achray.  Ir.  this  wild  retreat,  we  re- 
mained a  few  days  to  study  out  the  scene  of  the  "  Lady 
of  the  Lake."  We  walked  leisurely  through  the  Tros-, 
sachs,  which  is  not  very  wonderful  after  all ;  only  a  beau- 
tiful, rugged  glen,  such  as  are  seen  frequently  in  the 
United  States.  Uncle  was  disappointed  ;  from  Scott's 
description,  he  had  formed  an  idea  far  beyond  the  re- 
ality. This,  however,  was  the  only  spot  where  the 
great  "  word-painter "  deceived  us  by  using  a  little 
"poetic  license."  In  every  other  case  we  found  his 
descriptions,  even  in  the  minutest  details,  perfectly 
true  to  nature. 

At  the  end  of  our  walk,  we  took  a  little  boat  and 
rowed  over  to  Ellen's  Isle,  where,  with  some  difficulty, 
we  landed.  It  is  a  very  wild  place,  and  required  care- 
ful stepping  to  keep  our  feet,  for  it  has  black,  slimy 
places  so  overgrown  with  fern  and  heather,  that  one 
moment  I  found  myself  high  on  a  rock,  and  the  next 
down — "goodness  knows"  where,  and  I  didn't  know 
how.  I  enjoyed  the  expedition  very  much,  however, 
and  while  returning,  I  took  one  of  my  first  lessons  in 
rowing. 


26 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


Every  mile  of  the  ride  to  Callander  was  in  some  way 
connected  with  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake."  We  passed 
L:inrich  Mead,  where  the  clans  gathered  ;  then  the 
place  where  Roderick  Dhu  whistled,  and  his  clansmen 
sprang  up  before  Fitz-James,  and  as  suddenly  disappear- 
ed in  the  tall  heather;  also  Coilantogle  Ford,  where 
the  duel  was  fought ;  finally  we  followed  for  some  time 
the  course  of  the  herald  who  bore  the  Fiery  Cross. 

We  reached  Callander  at  noon.     Here  we  met  Mr. 

f  J ,  a  lawyer  of  Albany,  and  an  acquaintance  of 

Uncle's.  He  had  been  accidently  separated  from  his 
nephew,  in  the  uepot  at  Stirling,  and,  having  tele- 
graphed to  let  him  know  where  he  had  stopped,  was 
expecting  him  on  the  next  tram.  He  said  that  fortu- 
nately, he  had  drawn  some  money  the  day  before,  and 
handed  his  nephew  five  pounds.  Uncle  immediately 
took  out  a  five-pound  note  and  bade  me  keep  it  in  case 
of  a  like  accident.     It  remained  in  an  obscure  corner 

of  my  purse  until  we  reached  home.     Mr.  H told 

us  that  we  had  happened  on  a  very  "  unlucky  spot." 
We  soon  witnessed  the  truth  of  the  assertion. 

Before  we  left  Callander  (which  was  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble), we  concluded  that  it  was  the  most  remarkable  spot 
we  had  yet  visited.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  find  anybody,  as  neither  clerk,  waiter,  nor 
landlord  were  visible ;  secondly,  they  did  not  seem  to 
know  anything  when  we  did  find  them.  They  could 
not  even  tell  us  the  names  of  the  mountains  imme- 
diately surrounding  the  village. 

After  being  directed  in  a  dozen  different  ways,  and 
stumbling  into  various  back-yards,  we  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  the  old  Roman  e^rth-work,  which  was 
thrown  up  in  the  time  of  the  ancient  Britons,  and  al- 
though great  trees  have  grown  on  the  top  of  it,  the 
shape  is  still  discernible. 


-*-r",»i-i^'  1- 


so  U  T/I-EA  S  TERN  SCO  TLA  ND. 


27 


We  had  intended  to  ascend  the  mountain  of  Uam 
Var,  but  as  nobody  could  tell  us  which  one  of  the  sur- 
rounding peaks  bore  that  name,  we  were  obliged  to  give 
up  the  project  in  despair.  An  expedition  in  search  of 
some  falls  in  the  neighborhood,  proved  equally  unsuc- 
cessful, and  we  came  back  after  a  long  walk  up  hill, 
without  having  seen  anything,  and  with  wet  feet  and  a 
cold  in  my  head.  By  this  time  we  were  completely 
disgusted  with  Callander,  and  finding  that  a  northward 
train  left  at  six  o'clock,  we  decided  to  take  it.  After 
much  ado,  the  bill  was  at  last  obtained  and  paid, 
which  we  afterwards  found  to  have  been  somebody 
else's;  and  various  other  difficulties  being  overcome, 
or  overlooked,  we  finally  started,  caring  little  where  we 
were  going,  just  so  it  was  away  from  Callander. 

The  country  through  which  we  were  passing  was 
filled  with  associations  of  Rob  Roy.  Our  only  fellow- 
passenger,  a  Scotch  g  ntleman  who  declared  himself  a 
descendant  of  the  Stuarts,  a  rival  clan,  had  no  very 
high  opinion  of  our  hero.  He  considered  him  as  rather 
a  disreputable  character,  and  took  great  pride  in  pointing 
out  the  spot  where  a  great-uncle  of  his  had  fought 
with  Rob  Roy  and  forced  him  to  beg  his  pardon.  We 
stopped  at  a  little  station  on  Loch  Earn,  and  after 
waiting  an  hour  for  the  coach,  in  a  Scotch  mist — which 
is  worse  than  rain,  hail,  or  snow,  for  it  penetrates  every- 
thing— we  reached  our  night-quarters,  where  we  had  a 
good  laugh  over  all  the  mishaps  at  Callander.  By  the 
way,  I  lost  my  umbrella  there. 

Loch  Earn  pleased  us  more  than  any  of  the  Scotch 
lakes,  and  after  taking  long  rides  and  walks  around  it 
in  various  directions,  we  started  for  Stirling  in  a  stage- 
coach. As  we  passed  through  the  little  towns  on  our 
way,  all  the  boys  and  girls,  and  babies,  would  stand  by 


28 


AROUND   THE    WORLD. 


the  road-side  with  their  mouths  wide  open,  yelling  at 
the  top  of  their  voices.  I  suppose  they  were  shouting 
at  the  enlivening  sight  of  twenty-eight  people  on  the 
outside  of  the  coach,  packed  as  close  as  sardines.  As 
we  rode  through  one  village,  a  whole  crowd  of  children 
ran  after  us,  even  little  tots  hardly  old  enough  to  walk. 
The  gentlemen  threw  them  pennies,  then  watched  to 
see  the  "  bairns  "  all  run  for  them.  When  the  money 
fell  in  the  fields,  how  fast  they  scrambled  and  tumbled 
over  the  fences  !  One  little  girl  got  more  than  any  of 
the  others,  for  she  could  beat  all  the  boys  at  running. 
We  were  going  so  fast  that  it  was  very  hard  for  them 
to  keep  up  with  us,  and  for  every  conquest  she  made, 
she  was  greeted  with  a  "  hurrah  ! "  from  the  gentlemen 
on  the  coach.  Nearly  all  the  Highland  children  go 
barefooted,  and  the  boys  wear  plaid,  or  gray  kilts,  and 
little  odd-looking  jackets. 

Stirling  Castle  is  grand,  gray,  and  enchanting;  full  of 
gloomy  old  stories,  with  cells  and  dungeons  to  match. 
Here,  was  the  room  where  King  James  murdered  Doug- 
lass, and  the  window  through  which  the  body  was 
thrown.  There,  was  the  square  opening  in  the  ram- 
parts through  which  the  unfortunate  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  as  a  prisoner,  looked  down  upon  the  tournament 
ground  below.  Yonder  is  the  cell  described  by  Scott  in 
the  death  scene  of  the  brave  Roderick  Dhu.  As  we  stood 
looking  up  at  a  heavily-barred  window,  the  guide  told 
us  how  one  of  the  kings  of  Scotland,  when  he  was  a 
baby,  was  let  down  in  a  basket  from  a  window  of  Edin- 
burgh Castle  and  stolen  away  in  the  night ;  then  how 
those  who  stole  him  brought  him  to  Stirling,  and  put 
him  in  that  room  with  the  grated  window. 

From  Stirling  we  went  to  Glasgow,  having  made 
a  complete  circle  since  we  left  it.     When  we  reached 


SOUTH-EASTER/^  SCOTLAND. 


29 


the  cozy  little  Hotel  Blair  again,  and  found  the  beam- 
ing landlady  waiting  to  receive  us,  and  a  party  of  our 
ocean  friends  in  the  parlor,  we  spent  a  pleasant,  home- 
like evening  before  starting  on  a  more  extensive  trip 
through  the  north  of  Scotland. 


IV. 


RAIN    AND    RUINS. 


THE  "  lONA  — THREE  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY-TWO  DAYS  OF  RAIN — 
KYLES  OF  BUTE — GENUINE  HIGHLANDERS — THE  HUNTING  SEASON— 
F:NGAL'S  cave  in  a  storm — birthplace  of  CHRISTIANITY  IN 
SCOTLAND— THE  CALEDONIAN  CANAL — DRIP  FOR  DRIP — A  BANISHED 
CLAN— LADS  AND  LASSIES — A  TIRESOME  REST — WE  DIFFER— ONCB 
MORE  IN  THE  LOWLANDS. 

At  six  o'clock  one  August  morning  we  bade  adieu  to 
the  smoky  city  of  Glasgow  for  the  last  time,  and  em- 
barked on  the  pretty  little  excursion  steamer  "  lona," 
to  go  up  the  western  coast  of  Scotland. 

As  we  had  been  told  on  first  entering  this  country 
that  during  the  previous  year  there  had  been  only  thir- 
teen days  on  which  it  did  not  rain,  of  course  we  were 
well  provided  with  water-proofs,  rubbers,  and  damp 
anticipations. 

As  we  passed  down  the  narrow,  coffee-colored  Clyde, 
we  could  hear  a  constant  chink,  chink  of  tools,  and  we 
counted  more  than  a  hundred  large  ocean  steamers 
being  built.  They  were  in  every  stage  of  progress, 
from  the  mere  iron  frame-work  to  the  finished  vessel, 
all  painted  and  ready  to  be  launched. 

We  next  saw  the  green  fields,  and  the  cattle  brows- 
ing under  the  trees  ;  then  grand  old  Dumbarton  Rock ; 
then — the  rain.  The  shores  became  more  and  more 
distant  as  we  floated  out  into  the  Firth  of  Clyde,  and, 
finally,  they  disappeared  on  one  side,  so  we  could  look 
(30) 


RAIN  AND  RUINS. 


31 


far  out  to  sea.  We  passed  the  Isle  of  Arran,  and  then 
wound  through  the  Kyles  of  Bute  (or  "  Beauty,"  as 
they  should  have  been  called).  The  Crinan  Canal, 
through  which  our  course  lay,  separates  a  long,  narrow 
peninsula  fx*om  the  main  land  of  Argyle.  Although 
the  canal  is  only  nine  miles  in  length,  it  has  a  succes- 
sion of  fifteen  locks,  and  the  process  of  raising  us  from 
one  to  another  was  so  slow,  that  many  of  the  gentle- 
men left  the  steamer  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the 
canal,  which  enabled  them  to  see  more  of  the  country. 

We  who  remained  on  the  boat  were  amused  watch- 
ing the  little  Scotch  children  who  brought  pails  of 
fresh  milk,  which  they  distributed  to  the  passengers  at 
a  penny  a  glass.  There  were  no  houses  in  sight,  and 
the  children  had  run  down  from  the  hills  in  their 
Scotch  plaids  and  bare  feet,  like  so  many  little  High- 
landers, armed  with  milk-pails,  and  springing  up  from 
the  heather  like  Roderick  Dhu's  soldiers. 

We  saw  a  man  standing  near  one  of  the  locks,  who 
recalled  vividly  to  mind  the  famous  Rob  Roy.  He 
wore  the  entire  costume — kilt,  jacket,  scarf,  cap,  short 
leggings,  which  left  the  knees  bare,  and  even  the  heavy 
leathern  purse  suspended  from  his  belt,  while  he  had 
the  remarkably  long  arms,  and  sandy  red  hair,  charac- 
teristic of  that  hero.  A  lad  of  about  twelve  years,  evi- 
dently his  son,  was  with  him,  clothed  in  the  same  plaid, 
and  gazing  at  the  steamer  and  its  passengers  with 
open-mouthed  wonder.  They  had  guns,  and  were  un- 
doubtedly on  a  hunting  expedition.  These  were  some 
of  the  few  genuine  Highlanders,  so  clad,  that  we  saw 
during  our  stay  in  Scotland.  They  wore  their  costume 
with  a  natural  ease  and  grace  that  showed  it  to  be 
their  every-day  attire. 

We  happened  to  be  in  the  hunting  regions  on  the 
"  twelfth  of  August,"  the  opening  of  the  shooting  sea- 


32 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


son,  and  the  Highlands  were  overrun  with  EngHshmen, 
many  of  whom  had  d-.nned  the  picturesque  garments 
of  the  country  for  the  occasion;  but  it  was  impossible 
to  mistake  their  nationality. 

After  issuing  from  the  Crinan  Canal,  it  was  not  long 
before  we  reached  Oban,  a  Scotch  watering-place 
beautifully  situated  around  a  semicircular  bay,  dotted 
with  islands,  and  surrounded  by  mountains.  There  are 
several  old  ruined  castles,  covered  with  moss  and  ivy, 
in  the  neighborhood.  Just  beyond  a  short  point  that 
encloses  the  bay  on  the  north,  an  arm  of  the  Atlantic 
reaching  inland,  has  been  stretched  across  Scotland 
from  lake  to  lake  until  it  shakes  hands  with  the  North 
Sea  at  Inverness;  this  is  the  great  Caledonian  Canal. 

We  took  up  our  abode  for  a  short  time  at  Oban. 
The  morning  of  the  day  that  we  had  set  apart  for  cir- 
cumnavigating the  island  of  Mull,  which  was  dimly 
visible  from  my  window,  we  awoke  to  find  the  sun  and 
the  clouds  struggling  for  the  supremacy.  By  the  time 
the  little  steamer  "  Chevalier"  was  ready  to  leave  the 
pier,  there  were  not  more  than  four  or  five  gentlemen 
and  one  lady,  besides  Uncle  and  myself,  who  were  will- 
ing to  venture.  When  we  had  shot  out  of  the  bay  and 
were  fairly  out  to  sea,  in  addition  to  the  heavy  rain- 
storm that  had  now  come  upon  us  in  all  its  fury,  a 
fierce  wind  struck  us,  and  the  brave  little  vessel  was 
tossed  about  on  the  waves,  and  rolled  from  side  to  side 
like  a  toy.  We  had  a  choice  of  two  evils :  if  we  stayed 
down  in  the  small  cabin  of  the  steamer,  we  would  be- 
come sea-sick,  for  the  ports  had  to  be  close  i  to  keep 
out  the  waves,  making  the  air  very  close  ;  if  we  sat  on 
the  deck,  we  would  certainly  be  drenched.  We  pre- 
ferred the  latter  alternative.  The  lady  passenger  and 
myself  sat  together  near  the  smoke-stack,  our  chairs 
lashed  to  the  railing  of  the  hatchway,  and  covered  up 


RAIN  AND  RUINS. 


33 


to  our  necks  with  an  immense  piece  of  canvas.  In 
spite  of  the  umbrellas  we  held  over  our  heads,  our  hair 
and  the  feathers  on  my  hat  were  like  wet  strings,  the 
water  trickling  down  from  the  ends  of  them  as  if  they 
were  water-spouts,  and  the  rims  of  our  hats  were  gut- 
ters on  a  roof. 

At  length  the  island  of  Staffa  came  in  sight ;  but 
though  the  rain  had  almost  ceased,  the  captain  said  he 
was  afraid  we  could  not  land.  It  was  decided  that  we 
should  try  it  in  a  row-boat.  Accordingly,  the  boat  was 
let  down  over  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  the  steps  low- 
ered by  which  we  slowly  and  cautiously  descended. 
The  little  boat  was  dancing  up  and  down  as  if  it  were 
on  red-hot  coals,  and  had  feelings.  When  I  stood  at 
the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  with  one  foot  extended, 
about  to  step  into  it,  lo !  it  sank  into  the  "  trough  of 
the  sea "  far  beneath  me ;  almost  instantly  a  great 
wave  washed  over  my  feet,  and  dizzy  and  star- 
tled, I  looked  upward,  to  see  the  row-boat  dancing 
above  me,  higher  than  the  deck  of  the  steamer.  Thus 
a  see-saw  was  continued  for  several  minutes,  for  when 
the  boat  went  down,  the  ladder  went  up,  and  vice 
versa.  As  they  rested  on  a  level  for  a  few  seconds  at  a 
time,  we  were  dragged  hastily  into  the  boat,  one  after 
another.  Once  started,  we  hoped  our  difficulties  were 
at  an  end,  but  the  water  washed  in  on  us,  and  a  great 
piece  of  plimy,  yellow  sea-weed  flopped  into  the  boat. 
It  would  be  as  much  as  our  lives  were  worth  to  attempt 
to  row  into  Fingal's  Cave  on  such  a  day,  but  we  were 
determined  to  see  it,  so  we  landed  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  island  where  the  rocks  were  not  so  precipitous, 
and  walked  a  mile  through  the  tall,  wet  grass  to  the 
cave. 

We  then  ascended  a  hill,  and  when  on  the  summit, 
found  ourselves  standing  over  a  precipice,  the  waves 


34 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


foaming  and  dashing  up  into  the  crevices  of  the  rocks 
at  the  base,  and  near  at  hand  a  frail,  Httle  wooden  stair- 
way leading  over  the  ledges,  by  which  we  descended. 
The  only  way  I  can  describe  the  peculiar  formation  of 
the  rocks  we  then  scrambled  over  is,  by  suggesting  the 
idea  of  octagonal  or  many-sided  columns,  about  two 


Fingal's  Cave. 

feet  in  diameter,  placed  close  together  and  broken  off 
at  irregular  heights.  The  cave  is  very  high,  and  has 
the  same  formation,  except  that  the  broken  columns 
are  hanging  overhead  as  well  as  lying  under-foot.  It 
extends  back  into  the  hill  more  than  two  hundred  feet, 
and  each  wave  of  the  ocean  rushes  in  and  dashes  half- 


RAIN  AND  KUINS. 


35 


way  up  the  cave  at  the  back.  The  wavering  rope  by 
which  we  clung,  the  dangerous,  slippery  rocks  wc  trod 
on,  the  gloomy  grandeur  of  the  cave,  and  the  deafen- 
ing roar  of  the  waters  inspired  a  feeling  of  awe  and 
sublimity,  and  it  was  with  a  sensation  of  relief  that  we 
emerged  into  the  daylight. 

Soon  after  leaving  Staffa,  wc  landed  on  the  island  of 
lona,  the  birth-place  of  Christianity  in  Scotland,  where 
all  the  inhabitants  turned  out  to  see  us,  and  offered  sea- 
shells  and  ocean  treasures  of  all  kinds  for  sale.  Then 
they  took  us  to  see  the  il.i'^s  of  the  oldest  cathedral  in 
Scotland,  and  the  nunnery  founded  by  St.  Colomba. 
We  saw  the  burial-places  of  several  of  the  early  Scotch 
kings,  and  of  a  great  many  Highland  chiefs  and  eccle- 
siastics, with  rough  inscriptions,  and  odd  old  carvings 
of  warriors  and  bishops. 

On  returning  to  the  steamer,  we  took  our  places  un- 
der the  canvas  again,  and  prepared  for  several  hours 
more  in  the  rain.  The  island  of  Mull  was  in  sight  all 
the  while,  and  its  innumerable  tiny  mountain-rills, 
swollen  by  the  rains,  came  pouring  over  the  cliffs  into 
the  sea,  making  so  many  cataracts ;  from  the  distance 
at  which  we  saw  them,  they  appeared  like  white  rib- 
bons streaming  over  the  rocks. 

The  next  time  we  left  Oban,  it  was  to  go  through 
the  Caledonian  Canal,  and  unlike  our  last  expedition,  it 
was  undertaken  on  a  sunshmy  day.  The  scenery  in  this 
part  of  Scotland  is  more  like  Switzerland  than  that  of 
any  other  country.  There  is  an  endless  play  of  sun- 
light and  shadow  on  the  mountains,  and  every  old 
castle  we  pass  awakens  some  historic  or  romantic 
interest. 

At  one  place,  we  land  to  take  a  ride  through  Glen- 
coe.  We  sit  on  the  top  of  a  coach  with  two  dozen 
other  tourists,  the  driver  cracks  his  whip,  and  we  jog 


li 


I   I 


36 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


merrily  on.  Wc  enjoy  the  bright  landscape  a  few  min- 
utes, and  pass  the  great  slate  quarries,  near  which  entire 
villages  are  built  of  slate,  even  to  the  fences,  and  then^ 
down  comes  a  shower,  and  up  go  twenty-six  umbrellas. 
Uncle  says  to  the  lady  beside  him : 

"  Madam,  I  fear  my  umbrella  is  dripping  on  you." 

'*  Never  mind,"  she  replies,  "  I  see  the  water  from 
mine  is  dropping  down  your  niece's  neck." 

"  And  here  is  a  perfect  stream  of  water  from  some- 
body's umbrella  running  down  my  back  ;"  "  and  mine  !  " 
"  and  mine !  "  says  one  after  another. 

Everybody's  umbrella  is  dripping  on  somebody  else, 
making  it  even  all  around.  We  conclude  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  laugh, 
and  we  all  share  the  merriment  as  well  as  the  drench- 
ing. The  shower  ceases  for  a  moment,  and  down  come 
twenty-six  umbrellas.  They  are  all  handed  to  the  gen- 
tlemen sitting  at  the  ends  of  the  seats,  who  hold  them 
over  the  sides  of  the  r  ach,  letting  the  water  run  off  on 
to  the  road.  If  we  should  happen  to  pass  through  a 
dusty  city  just  at  this  moment,  we  would  serve  the  pur- 
pose of  a  first-class  "  sprinkling  wagon."  During  the 
half-hour's  ride  through  the  glen,  I  count  ten  separate 
showers,  before  and  after  each  of  w'hich,  the  umbrellas 
go  up  and  down  simultaneously.  At  a  turn  in  the 
valley,  the  guide  points  out  to  us  a  small  dark  hole,  or  a 
cave  near  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  where,  he  says,  a 
hermit  once  lived.  I  should  think  that  when  he  once 
got  up  there,  he  could  never  have  come  down  again 
without  breaking  his  neck,  so  he  may  have  been  a  her- 
mit by  necessity.  I  tire  of  counting  showers,  so  I  do 
not  know  how  many  we  have  on  the  way  back  to  the 
steamer.  There  is  one  man  in  the  party  whose  pockets 
are  filled  with  "  tracts,"  printed  in  the  Gaelic  dialect, 
which   he   distributes   at   the   little   Highland   villages 


w 


RAIN  AND  RUINS. 


37 


throiK;h  which  we  pass.     We  are  soon  once  more  on 
the  canal. 

We  stop  for  a  night  at  the  foot  of  Ben  Nevis,  the 
highest  peak  in  Scotland,  hoping  for  an  opportunity  to 
ascend,  but  he  wears  such  a  heavy  night-cap  of  mist 
and  cloud,  that  there  is  little  chance  of  his  uncovering 
his  bald  head  for  a  week  or  more.  So  we  continue  our 
journey,  passing  from  one  beautiful  lake  into  another. 
The  shores  of  Loch  Oich  particularly  interest  us  as 
being  the  country  of  the  MacDonalds  of  Glengarry.' 
One  chieftain  of  this  clan,  whose  castle  we  saw,  an  un- 
fortunate adherent  of  the  Pretender,  was  the  prototype 
of  Fergus  Maclvor,  of  Scott's  Waverley,  and  Flora 
MacDonald,  his  sister,  was  the  original  of  Flora  Mac- 
Ivor.  Driven  by  poverty  and  the  encroachments  of  the 
great  landholders  of  Scotland,  this  clan  emigrated  in  a 
body  to  Canada.  It  is  said  that  the  scene  of  their 
departure  was  heart-rending.  They  were  obliged  to 
tear  themselves  away  from  their  own  beautiful  country, 
every  spot  of  which  was  endeared  to  them  by  their 
ancient  traditions.  These  people,  who  were  all  Catho- 
lics, have  formed  quite  a  settlement  of  their  own  in 
Canada.  Uncle  says  thr;t  he  once  met  their  chief  in 
New  York. 

As  we  neared  the  end  of  our  journey,  a  party  of 
young  people  came  on  board,  who  had  been  out  in  the 
woods  on  a  picnic.  They  were  the  real  Scotch  "  lads 
and  lassies,"  and  right  "  bcnnie  "  ones  they  were.  They 
danced  old-fjishioned  country  dances  on  the  deck,  talked 
very  broad  Scotch,  and  sang  ballads.  They  amused  us 
all  the  way  to  Inverness,  which  is  at  the  termination  of 
the  Caledonian  Canal. 

From  there  we  came  southward  through  the  beauti- 
ful Pass  of  Killicrankie  and  the  Perthshire  Highlands. 
This  long  and  uninteresting  ride  gave  us  a  rest  from 


'i  ■ 
111! 


^;'T^»V,PPr7,-TH  i."'i*r"f'.*'.?i!iw 


38 


AROUXn   THE   WORLD. 


sight-seeing,  which  was  quite  refreshing  for  the  moment, 
and  enabled  us  to  appreciate  more  fully  the  adventures 
awaiting  us  in  Edinburgh  and  the  Lowlands. 

We  had  seen  so  many  castles  and  mountains  during 
the  past  few  weeks  that  we  began  to  feel  tired  of  them 
— yes,  actually  tired  of  them.  Uncle  and  I  quite  nat- 
urally did  not  always  agree  as  to  how  they  should  be 
regarded.  For  instance,  when  we  stood  on  the  top  of 
a  mountain  he  would  like  to  study  the  geography  of  the 
country,  and  to  fix  definitely  in  his  mind  whe'-e  each 
mountain  and  valley  was  situated ;  while  I  was  per- 
fectly indifferent  as  to  which  was  Ben  Voirlich  and 
which  Glen  Artney,  if  the  whole  scene  was  beautiful 
and  imposing.  Then  in  visiting  an  old  ruin  he  would 
enjoy  wading  through  the  mud  and  rubbish  to  examine 
how  thick  the  walls  were,  how  many  guns  such  a  castle 
had,  and  like  details ;  while  to  me  it  was  much  more 
enjoyable  and  picturesque  to  look  at  from  a  distance, 
with  its  ivy-grown  battlements  and  towers  standing  out 
against  the  sky,  or  with  a  dark  mountain  in  the  back- 
ground. Fortunately  we  could  both  be  satisfied. 
First  he  would  look  at  it  from  my  point  of  view,  then 
I  would  join  him  in  entering  into  particulars.  I  soon 
found,  too,  that  his  way  was  very  interesting. 

Americans  meet  us  at  every  step.  Some  one  told 
me  that  eighty-five  thousand  had  come  over  since  the 
year  began. 

Our  ladies  do  not  lose  their  reputation  for  carrying 
large  trunks.  The  other  day,  as  a  very  heavy  one  was 
rolled  on  to  the  coach,  making  every  one  inside  start  at 
the  sudden  thump  1  an  English  lady  sitting  by  me  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Gracious  !  that  must  belong  to  an  American  lady." 

Of  course  it  was  not  my  modest  valise.  It  is  certain, 
however,  that  if  the  English  ladies  are  sensible  as  to 


RAIN  AND  RUINS, 


39 


quantity  in  dress,  they  are  quite  insensible  as  to  taste. 
Even  eld  ladies  wear  the  most  remarkable  contrasts  in 
color. 

But,  in  the  meantime,  Uncle  and  I  are  hastening 
towards  our  destination.  We  stop  a  few  hours  at 
Perth,  where  we  walk  through  the  old  "  South  Inch  " 
or  common.  We  reach  Edinburgh  at  nightfall,  and 
after  much  difficulty  in  finding  accommodation,  we  are 
received  into  a  crowded  hotel,  where  Uncle  is  obliged  to 
sleep  on  a  couch  in  one  of  the  parlors,  while  a  small 
bath-room  is  fitted  up  for  my  inconvenience. 


It! 


V. 


EDINBURGH  AND  THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 


HEART  OF  MID-LOTHIAN — MEMORIES  OF  MARY,  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS — EDIN- 
UURGII  CASTLE— AUBOTSFOKD — SIR  WALTER  SCOTT's  STUDY — HIS  COL- 
LECTION OF  ANTIQUITIES— HIS  TOMB— MELROSE  ABBEY. 

Here,  at  Edinburgh,  we  found  two  letters  from 
the  oth^r  side  of  the  Atlantic.  How  welcome  they 
were  !  We  had  been  travelling  a  whole  month  and  not 
even  a  line  had  reached  us  to  say  whether,  at  home, 
they  were  all  alive  or  not.  We  had  changed  our  route 
and  missed  our  letters. 

Although  in  travelling  it  is  pleasant  to  meet  agreea- 
ble people,  it  seems  that  we  must  always  part  with  them 
just  as  we  begin  to  know  them  well  and  like  them.  It 
is  but  a  variation,  you  see,  of  the  old  story — Hinda's 
"dear  gazelle."  We  have  sometimes  been  fortunate, 
however,  in  meeting  the  same  people  at  different  places. 
The  English  lady  and  her  nephew  who  travelled  with 
us  in  the  region  of  Ben  Lomond  and  Loch  Katrine, 
happened  to  be  here  in  the  same  hotel.  Indeed,  so 
friendly  had  our  intercourse  become,  that,  although  we 
had  never  been  formally  introduced,  they  urged  us 
most  cordially,  when  they  vvere  leaving,  to  visit  them 
at  their  homestead,  near  London,  when  we  should 
reach  that  city  One  night  while  we  were  at  Edin- 
burgh, these  friends  proposed,  at  about  nine  o'clock, 
that  we  should  go  to  the  top  of  Calton  Hill,  a  steep, 
rocky  eminence  near  the  center  of  the  city,  promising 
(40) 


il: 


n 


o 


EDTNBURGII  AND   THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 


41 


US  a  spectacle  such  as  could  not  be  seen  anywhere  else. 
When  we  reached  the  summit  there  was,  indeed,  a  re- 
markable sight  before  us  and  beneath  us^the  glimmer- 
ing lights  of  the  city  stretching  out  on  every  side  until 
they  mmgled  with  the  stars.  We  had  quite  a  dispute 
in  regard  to  some  of  them,  as  to  which  were  earthly 
and  which  heavenly  lights.     One  of  them  we  finally 


Edinburgh  Castlk. 


decided  to  be  the  revolving  light  of  a  lighthouse  on  an 
island  far  off  in  the  Firth  of  Forth,  for,  on  watching  it 
more  closely,  we  saw  that  it  kept  disappearing  and  re- 
turning. We  recognized  Prince's  street — that  gicat, 
broad  thoroughfare — by  the  long  range  of  lamps  on 
cither  side,  extending  in  a  straight  line  from  the  dis- 


ril 


42 


AROUXD  THE   WORLD 


tant  suburbs  to  the  very  foot  of  the  hill,  there  making 
one  crooked  turn  and  then  continuing  out  to  Holyrood. 
Looking  across  the  valley  through  which  the  railroad 
tracks  now  run,  we  could  count,  by  the  tiers  of  lighted 
windows,  houses  of  nine  and  ten  stories  on  the  oppo- 
site hill. 

We  managed  to  see  the  principal  objects  of  inter- 
est in  Edinburgh  in  spite  of  the  weather,  which  was 
gloomy  enough  to  send  one's  spirits  below  zero.  The 
only  way  to  manage  in  Scotland  is  to  brave  wind,  rain, 
and  fog,  hoping  it  will  clear  up  before  you  have  gone 
far,  for  it  brightens  very  quickly  when  the  sun  can  once 
get  a  peep  at  you.  We  drove  through  all  the  old  parts 
of  the  city,  and  took  great  delight  in  hunting  up  the 
scenes  of  *'  The  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian."  We  found 
them  too ;  the  Grass  Market,  Cow-gate,  the  course  of 
the  great  riot,  Jernnie  Dean's  Cottage,  and  (will  you 
believe  it?)  even  the  old  Muscat's  Cairn.  A  large  heart 
inlaid  among  the  pave-stones  right  in  the  middle  of  a 
street,  marks  the  place  where  the  old  Tolbooth  or 
PrisoK  stood,  after  which  the  novel  is  named. 

We  wandered  through  gloomy  old  Holyrood  Palace, 
with  its  beautiful  little  ruined  chapel  and  imposing 
courts,  every  portion  of  which  is  haunted  with  sad 
memories  and  incidents  of  the  life  of  Queen  Mary  of 
Scots.  So  vividly  do  these  quiet  old  walls  recall  the 
scenes,  that  in  passing  from  room  to  room,  one  starts 
and  fancies  that  the  spirits  of  her  persecutors  and  her 
friends  are  either  peering  from  behind  the  faded  tapes- 
try, or  rising  from  the  blood-stains  on  the  floor ;  while 
one  is  seized  with  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  draw 
aside  the  time-worn,  embroidered  trappings  of  her  state- 
ly bed,  expecting  to  behold  the  same  lovely  form  that 
once  lay  there  seeking  troubled  snatches  of  repose  when 
surrounded  by  attendants  among  whom  this  hapless 


1! 


EDINBURGH  A.VD  THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 


43 


young  queen  scarce  knew  which  to  trust  and  which  to 
dread. 

It  was  the  same  sad  story  that  followcl  us  tlirough 
Edinburgh  Castle ;  it  was  a  portrait  of  the  same  beau- 
tiful face  that  looked  down  upon  us  from  its  walls — 
proud,  yet  bewitching,  the  delicate  mouth  seeming  now 
to  smiie  sweetly  and  sadly,  now  to  curl  scornfully,  but  al- 
ways enchaining  our  admiration.  In  anoth'^r  room  we 
saw  the  ancient  regalia  of  Scotland — a  golden  crown, 
sceptre,  and  sword — the  cause  of  so  much  misery  and 
bloodshed ;  but  now  when  the  Scots  have  no  longer  a 
king  of  their  own  to  wear  it,  an  iron-barred  case  and 
armed  sentinels  guard  it  as  a  mere  curiosity. 

Upon  the  ramparts  stands  old  '*  Mons  Meg,"  the 
famous  large  cannon  that  has  made  its  mark,  and  a 
deadly  one,  no  doubt,  in  the  annals  of  Scotland.  It  is 
only  a  step  from  the  door  of  the  beautiful  little  chapel 
of  St.  Margaret,  the  one  quiet,  holy  spot  in  the  midst 
of  all  these  warlike  surroundings. 

Although  we  had  despaired  of  pleasant  weather  to 
ascend  Salisbury  Crags  and  Arthur's  Seat,  we  would 
have  been  loth  to  leave  this  interesting  city,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  delightful  place  toward  which  we  now 
turned  our  steps — the  home  and  haunts  of  Scott.  On 
the  cars  we  met  two  very  agreeable  ladies  from  Louis- 
ville, Ky.,  so  the  time  passed  pleasantly  until  we  reach- 
ed Melrose.  There  they  took  a  carriage  with  us,  and 
we  drove  together  to  Abbotsford,  about  three  miles 
west  of  the  village.  We  passed  the  Eildon  Hills,  three 
large,  rounded  elevations  that  really  look  as  if  they 
might  once  have  formed  a  single  mountain,  and  sug- 
gested the  words  of  the  old  monk  at  the  wizard's 
grave,  in  the  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel :  " 

"  And,  stranger,  I  could  name  to  thee 
The  words  that  cleft  Eildon  hills  in  three, 
And  bridled  the  Tweed  with  i  curb  of  stone." 


^    lil 


44 


AROUND  THE  IVORl.D, 


Abbotsford  is  a  handsome  building   with  turrets  and 
towers,  just  such  a  place  as  you  might  imagine  Sir  Wal- 


0 


n 


i-i 


IT 


ter  Scott's  residence  to  be ;  it  had  a  quiet,  hospitable 
air  about  it,  and  although  the  gardens  were  a  little  stiff 
and  prim,  they  were  relieved  by  the  old  stone  walls,  al^ 


EDIXRURGH  AND   THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 


45 


most  covered  with  ivy  and  holly,  which  enclosed  the 
grounds.  The  place  is  still  occupied  by  a  descendant 
of  the  family,  but  visitors  enter  at  a  side  door,  and  a 
guide  conducts  them  through  Sir  Walter's  private 
apartments.  A  stream  of  people  were  entering  the 
gates  all  the  time,  and  while  we  were  waiting  for  the 
party  that  was  already  up-stairs  to  come  down,  we  had 
an  opportunity  of  buying  a  few  photographs  of  the 
place,  which  were  displayed,  with  boxes,  paper-cutters, 
and  various  mementoes,  in  the  little  room  or  vestibule 
where  we  stood. 

We  were  first  shown  the  study  where  Scott  composed 
and  wrote  ;  his  desk  and  chair  are  there,  also  a  case  con- 
taining his  walking-sticks,  pipes,  and  the  last  suit  of 
clothes  he  wore.  About  half-way  between  the  ceiling  and 
floor,  around  three  sides  of  the  room,  is  a  small  wire  bal- 
cony, with  steps  ascending  to  it  in  one  corner,  and  a  door 
opening  from  it  into  his  bed-room.  Above  this  balcony 
the  walls  are  lined  with  books,  while  below  it  there  is  a 
handsome  wainscoting ;  and  an  inlaid  chest  or  cabinet 
stands  near  the  broad,  low  window.  In  a  little  circular 
tower-room  opening  off  the  study  is  preserved  a  cast  of 
the  skull  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  taken  after  death,  but  it 
suggested  an  idea  so  repulsive,  that  I  did  not  wish  to 
see  it.  Uncle,  who  examined  it  with  unusual  interest, 
said  it  displayed  to  great  advantage  the  fine  develop- 
ment of  the  forehead  and  intellectual  faculties  of  the 
great  author. 

The  study  is  a  small,  cozy  room,  but  the  adjoining 
library  is  very  large,  with  magnificent  woodwork.  It 
contains  a  number  of  costly  presents  from  kings  and 
nobles.  Among  others,  a  handsome  set  of  ebony  furni- 
ture, exquisitely  carved,  from  George  the  Fourth.  The 
paintings  are  also  very  fine ;  there  are  portraits  of  Sir 
Walter's  two  daughters,  both  noble  -  looking  women, 


J 


^  \ 


46 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


:i  1 


> 

■' 

1 

w 

1] 

\ 

1 1 

ji! 

i       1 

and  of  his  eldest  son,  who  was  a  soldier,  and  measured 
six  feet  four  inches  in  height.  The  last  is  a  full-length 
oil-painting,  ''nd  reaches  from  the  mantel  almost  to  the 
ceiling,  which  is  exceedingly  high.  Before  we  fully  re- 
alized what  we  were  doing,  the  guide  had  pointed  out, 
and  we  were  looking  at,  a  painting  of  the  head  of  Marj^ 
Queen  of  Scots,  lying  on  a  silver  charger  the  day  after 
her  execution.  The  guide  told  us  that  this  picture  was 
never  allowed  to  be  copied.  It  is  said  to  be  a  very  good 
likeness,  but  I  did  not  wait  to  examine  the  features ;  a 
glance  is  sufficient  to  give  one  a  shock  that  is  long  re- 
membered. The  rooms  we  then  passed  through  are 
stored  with  antiquities  and  curiosities  of  every  descrip- 
tion. One  would  think  there  is  scarcely  a  hero  or  a 
battle  of  uhich  there  is  not  some  memorial  in  this  col- 
lection. Rob  Roy's  gun  and  purse.  Napoleon's  writing 
case,  whole  suits  of  armor  found  on  battle-fields,  in- 
struments of  torture,  specimens  of  architecture,  a  pen- 
and-ink  sketch  of  Oueen  Elizabeth  dancing  the  High- 
land-fling  at  the  age  of  sixty,  and  cui'ious  articles  from 
all  parts  of  the  globe,  that  would  take  the  lifetime  of 
such  a  man  as  Walter  Scott  to  collect.  We  could  al- 
most imagine  ourselves  his  guests,  and  that  he  was 
showing  us  through  those  elegant  apartments  himself, 
and  telling  anecdotes  of  each  object  as  he  pointed  it 
out  and  gave  its  history.  A  week  would  not  be  long 
enough  to  see  everything;  but  others  were  waiting  for 
the  guide,  so  we  were  obliged  to  be  sauisfied  with  a 
passing  glimpse,  and  hasten  down. 

Dryburgh  Abbey,  two  miles  east  of  the  village,  is  an 
interesting  ruin,  containing  the  tombs  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott  and  several  of  his  family. 

Melrose  Abbey  is  too  beautiful  in  its  decay,  and  del- 
icate in  its  tracery-work,  to  be  described  by  a  less  skill- 
ful pen  than  that  which  traced  the  exquisite  description 


if 


11 


I 


te' 


EDhWBURGII  AND   THE  HOME  OF  SCOTT. 


of  it  in  the  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel."  As  I  sat  on 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  favorite  seat  of  fallen  stones  near 
those  pillars  which  he  calls  "  bundles  of  lances  which 
garlands  had  bound,"  and  looking  towards  the  east  oriel, 
how  could  I  help  quoting  those  beautiful  lines  referring 
to  that  very  window,  and  composed,  no  doubt,,  while 
seated  on  these  very  stones ! 

"Thou  woulclst  have  thought  some  fairy's  hand 
'Twixt  poplars  straight  the  osier  wand 
In  many  a  freakish  knot  had  twined  ; 
Then  framed  a  spell,  when  the  work  was  done, 
And  changed  the  willow  wreaths  to  stone." 


i 


1 


VI. 


THREE    CITIES    OF    IRELAND. 

THE    IRISH      COAST— JAUNTING-CARS — A     WILD      IRISHMAN — DUBLIN — 
ACROSS    THE    COUNTRY — LOST    IN   LIMERICK. 

From  Melrose  we  travelled  thr*^-  '.  the  "border 
country"  to  Newcastle,  then  over  ^^m  to  Dumfries, 
where  Burns  is  buried,  and,  finally,  to  a  little  Scotch 
port  whence  we  sailed  for  Ireland.  After  three  hours 
on  the  steamer Avc  came  in  sight  of  Belfast.  I  have  a 
special  kindly  feeling  toward  the  Irish  coast,  owing, 
probably,  to  the  fact  that  it  was  the  first  land  we  saw 
after  crossing  the  broad  Atlantic,  on  our  way  to  Glas- 
gow. How  we  strained  our  eyes  to  see  the  first  gray 
outline  of  a  something  lying  like  a  cloud  against  the 
horizon,  and  how  we  sat  watching  it  for  hours,  w  hile  it 
grew  into  the  semblance  of  mountains,  then  the  valleys 
and  the  nearer  hills  appeared,  and  soon  the  jagged  cliffs 
were  visible,  hanging  over  the  water.  We  saw  the  froth 
of  the  waves  as  they  dashed  up  the  crevices,  but  the 
roaring  sound  was  deadened  by  the  nearer  rippling  of 
the  water  around  the  ship.  With  something  of  awe  we 
passed  the  Giant's  Causeway,  and  as  the  rocks  were 
pointed   out  to  us  where  vessels  had  bee  •""-ecked  a 


short  time  before,  we  said  to  ourselv..': vitii  a  oe</  '.e, 
contented  feeling,  and  with  a  new  meannif  .  I^istn:  v. 
lends  enchantment  to  the  View.'  And  'i,  '■>  wo 
passed  longingly  the  white  cottages  up  the  h' a  sides, 
and  the  green,  green  grass,  we  were  not  sorr)'  ;')A[  our 
(48) 


m 


Ttam. 


' 


TIIKF.E  CITIES  OF  IRELAND. 


49 


ocean  trip  was  nearly  over.  We  naturally  thought  of 
that  view  of  the  northern  coast  as  we  approached  Ire- 
land, this  time  from  the  east. 

When  we  reached  Belfast,  our  minds  were  wholly 
engrossed  with  the  jaunting-cars.  There  they  stood, 
drawn  up  in  line,  and  waiting  to  be  hired.  We  imme- 
diately determined  upon  a  ride.  The  vehicle  seemed 
to  me  to  consist  of  three  steps  on  each  side.  The  low- 
est one  is  for  the  feet,  the  next  is  to  sit  on,  and  the 
highest  one  to  lean  against.  A  person  sits  on  each  side 
of  the  car,  and  thus  they  ride,  sideways,  with  their  faces 
and  feet  toward  the  houses,  and  back  to  back.  A  small 
iron  arm,  or  railing,  is  at  each  end  of  the  middle  step, 
or  seat,  and  it  is  generally  in  great  requisition  by  nov- 
ices in  this  style  of  travelling  as  a  preventive  against 
sliding  off. 

We  merely  intimated  to  our  driver  at  Belfast  that  we 
were  in  a  hurry  to  reach  the  other  depot,  when  with  a 
"  whoop,"  and  a  crack  of  his  whip,  he  dashed  off  at  full 
speed,  and  we  clung  to  the  railing  for  dear  life.  He 
raced  us  through  those  streets  like  a  madman,  scatter- 
ing the  heavy  wagons  and  carriages  right  and  left,  every 
now  and  then  uttering  a  peculiar  cr>'  that  seemed  to 
clear  the  way  for  us.  Wc  had  found  a  "  wild  Irishman  " 
the  very  first  thing.  He  cut  round  the  corners  in  a 
startling  manner,  just  grazing  the  lamp-post  each  time, 
and  once,  when  my  umbrella  happened  to  be  stick- 
ing out,  it  nearly  upset  a  gentleman  who  was  standing 
on  the  curbstone.  We  alighted  at  the  depot  in  a  mar- 
velously  short  while,  and  found  we  had  some  time  to 
look  around  at  the  city ;  but  all  that  1  can  say  of  it  is, 
that  I  saw  nothing  to  distinguish  it  j^articularly  from 
the  ordinary  run  of  modem  cities. 

From  Belfast  we  were  soon  spinning  along  on  the 
express  train  toward  Dublin.     Here  we  engaged  rooms 

3 


50 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


in  a  hotel  on  beautiful  Sackville  street,  the  pride  of  an 
Irishman's  heart ;  but  it  rained  so  hard  while  we  were 


there  that  we  scarcely  Jjad  a  j^Ji/npse  t)\  the  statue  </M 
top  of  the  tall  column  that  standi*  \\\  iSm  centre  of  th<.> 
street.     We  drove  round  to  see  the  city  and  its  sights 


~ 


THREE  CITIES  OF  I R  EL  A. WD. 


51 


in  a  jaunting-car,  guided  by  the  driver,  who  was  lively, 
intelligent,  and  entertaining,  which  can  not  be  said  of 
the  English  hackmen,  who  seemed  generally  as  stupid 
as  blocks,  and  ignorant  of  all  that  was  not  directly  con- 
nected with  their  driving.  This  reminds  me  of  a  story 
I  heard  of  how  an  Irishman  "  chated  "  a  Yankee.  A 
lady,  whom  we  met,  told  us  that  when  she  had  arrived 
at  the  depot  in  Dublin,  or  it  may  have  been  one  of  the 
other  Irish  cities,  she  went  to  the  carriage  stand,  and 
asked  a  jaunting-car  man  to  drive  her  to  a  hotel  which 
she  named.  He  looked  at  her  a  moment  with  an  odd 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  but  then  helped  her  politely  into 
the  car  and  started  off.  After  driving  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes,  he  stopped  before  the  door  of  the  hotel,  re- 
ceived his  pay,  and  drove  away.  The  next  day,  when 
preparing  to  continue  her  journey,  she  told  the  hotel- 
clerk  to  order  a  carriage  to  take  her  to  the  depot. 
"You  do  not  need  a  carriage,  madam,  the  depot  is  just 
next  door."  She  then  appreciated  the  little  game  that 
had  been  played  on  her  by  the  jannting-car  inail.  We 
afterward  found  those  tricks  upon  travellers  to  be  of 
very  ct)mau»ii  occurreiiLL',  and  we  were  more  than  once 
the  victims. 

'the  tide  on  the  railway  from  publin  to  J^jnierick 
was  very  interesting,  because  so  characteristic  of  "  ould 
Ireland."  We  pa3se(|  ancient  round  towers,  built  in 
t})e  time  of  the  Druids  (.'*),  acres  of  puLaiu-liuldH,  miles 
(jf  bog,  and  pilcB  of  peat  ready  to  be  burned  when  the 
cold  weather  came. 

In  spite  of  its  mud,  the  Sliainion  is  a  fine  river,  ailtl 
LlnU'tlck,  with  its  fragments  of  ancient  wall,  an  interest- 
ing city  in  some  respects,  though  I  have  unpleasant  recol- 
italliKlfl  iuilinist-ted  vvltii  it.  We  )i/ippened  to  lose  om 
way  in  some  of  the  back  sfrpuM,  on<l  SnUtt^  we  found 
it  again,  we  wandered  through  scenes  ol  liiorirtX  H\^U\\- 
fdnsss  and  poverty  that  woulti  \m\l^  '//jc's  ijeart  sick. 


i 


VII. 


KILLARNEY    AND    BLARNEY. 


>i  I 


II 
I 


AMONG  THE  LAKES  OF  KIIXARNEY — COTTAGE  OF  KATE  KEARNEY — GAP 
OF  DUNLOE — "OLD  WEIR  BRIDGE"  —  MUCKROSS  ABUEY  — A  SUDDEN 
SQUALL — "  BOOTS  " — THE  BLARNEY  STONE  ! 

After  leaving  Limerick,  our  next  stopping -place 
was  Killarney,  and  one  could  not  but  think  it  a  pity 
that  here,  so  much  ground  was  left  wild  for  sports  and 
pleasure  while  those  poor  people  we  had  seen  in  Lim- 
erick were,  perhaps,  starving  for  want  of  a  place  to  plant 
their  potatoes. 

One  morning  we  started  from  the  hotel  on  an  excur- 
sion round  the  lakes.  The  first  part  of  the  trip  was  in 
a  jaunting-car,  on  a  beautiful  winding  road,  past  several 
picturesque  ruins,  with  glimpses  of  the  Lower  Lake 
through  the  foliage.  The  latter  is  wonderfully  green 
and  delicate,  distinguished  by  a  certain  freshness  due  to 
the  frequent  rain,  which  gives  to  the  island  its  emerald 
hue.  After  riding  some  time,  a  dark  cut  opened  be- 
tween the  mountains,  and  the  guide  told  us  that  it 
was  the  Gap  of  Dunloe.  All  this  time,  a  woman  was 
running  after  us  with  a  basket  of  bogwood  jewelry,  and 
begging  Uncle  to  buy  some.  "  Ah ! "  she  said,  in  her 
most  winning  tones,  panting  between  the  w  ords,  as  she 
tried  to  keep  up  with  the  car,  "  sure  ye'll  take  them 
home  to  yer  dear  lady."  Uncle  told  her  that  he  had 
no  "  dear  lady  "  at  home  ;  but  she  persevered  until  her 
good-natured  entreaties  were  irresistible.  While  we 
(52) 


K/LLARNEY  AhD  HLAHNEY. 


53 


were  still  in  motion,  the  bogvvood  was  thrown  into  the 
jaunting-car  and  the  silver  was  thrown  out  to  the 
woman,  who  gathered  it  up  with  a  beaming  smile,  and 
wafted  us  a  grateful  "God  bless  ye!"  as  we  disap- 
peared roand  a  curve  in  the  road. 

Horses  were  awaiting  us  at  the  entrance  to  the  Gap, 
and  we  mounted  them  at  the  door  of  the  cottage  of  ihe 
famous  "  Kate  Kearney,  who  lived  on  the  Lakes  of 
Killarney."  We  were  told  that  the  young  girl  who 
brought  us  a  drink  of"  Mountain  Dew"  and  fresh  milk, 
was  her  namesake  and  lineal  descendant.  The  bever- 
age she  offered  was  not  whiskey — O,  no! — onh  the 
dew  that  falls  on  the  mountains  in  the  night-time. 
Kate  Kearney  would  not  be  guilty  of  distilling  whis- 
key, unlawfully,  and  thus  avoidin:;  the  tax,  so  you  see  it 
was  only  "  mountain  dew  "  after  all. 

At  different  points  on  the  way  through  the  Gap,  boys 
fired  off  guns  so  that  we  could  her.r  the  echoes  of 
the  explosion  repeated  again  and  again.  Sometimes 
the  guide  blew  a  blast  of  his  bugle,  making  the  whole 
gorge  ring  with  the  music,  and  once,  he  held  a  long 
conversation  with  "  Paddy  Burke,"  who,  he  informed 
us,  inhabited  the  opposite  rocks.  "  Paddy,"  he  said, 
"are  you  very  well?"  "Very  well,"  said  Paddy.  After 
further  parley  concerning  his  wife  and  children,  the 
guide  said,  "  Let's  sing  a  duet."  "  Sing  a  duet,"  as- 
sented Paddy,  and  they  sang  a  rousing  chorus,  but 
Paddy  did  not  keep  good  time  ;  he  invariably  came  in 
a  little  late  at  the  end  of  each  line,  repeating  the  last 
word  several  times.  "Good-bye,  Paddy,"  said  the 
guide,  "  and  good  luck  to  you  !  "  "  Good  luck  to  you," 
said  Paddy,  "  Luck  t  >  you,"  murmured  a  voice  on  the 
other  side,  "To  you,"  said  Paddy,  faintly,  and  we  rode 
on. 

We  skirted  the  borders  of  Serpent  Lake,  a  gloomy 


m 
.■^■i. 


HHBBI 


D« 


^a^ 


.^X, 
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54 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


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pool,  where,  according  to  the  guide's  story,  the  devil,  in 
the  form  of  a  "  sarpint,"  was  once  outwitted  in  some 
way,  by  St.  Patrick,  who  locked  him  up  in  a  box,  which, 
if  1  remember  rightly,  he  threw  into  the  lake. 

From  a  high  point  in  the  Gap  we  looked  down  on  the 
Black  Valley,  lying  in  deep  shadow  at  the  feet  of  the 
Purple  Mountains  and  McGillicuddy's  Reeks,  like  an 
ink-spot  on  the  briglit  landscape. 


Ross  Castle. 

On  emerging  from  the  Gap  of  Dunloe,  we  dismounted 
from  the  horres,  and  walked  a  short  distance  through  a 
grove,  when  we  found  ourselves  standing  on  the  shore 
of  the  Upper  Lake  of  Killarney.  A  row-boat,  with  a 
basket  of  lunch,  had  been  sent  from  the  hotel  to  meet 
us,  and  we  were  soon  rowing  down  the  Upper  Lake, 
which  winds  here  and  there,  so  that  we  often  wondered 
where  we  would  next  turn.  The  characteristic  beautv 
of  these  lakes  is  the  remarkably  rich  foliage  that  covers 
the  mountains,  especially  an  oddly-shaped  one,  which 


KILLARNEY  AND  BLARNEY. 


55 


has  an  eagle's  nest  perched  on  a  cHff  overhanging  the 
water,  whence  it  takes  its  name. 

We  passed  under  several  moss-grown  bridges  before 
we  reached  the  "  Old  Weir  Bridge,"  under  which  the 
waters  of  the  Middle  Lake  flow  into  Lough  Leane,  or 
the  Lower  Lake.  There  are  fierce  rapids  and  a  strong 
current  under  the  bridge,  so  the  men  drew  in  their 
oars,  and  we  darted  through  the  dark  arch  and  far  out 
into  the  lake,  with  a  rapidity  that  nearly  took  our 
breath  away.  We  passed  safely,  though  the  warning 
old  song  says,  "  Shoot  not  the  Old  Weir,  for  death  may 
be  there."  We  stopped  a  short  time  on  the  lovely  little 
Island  of  Innisfallen,  with  its  crown  of  ruins  and  its  store 
of  legends,  and  then  rowed  rapidly  towards  the  hotel^ 
for  the  oarsmen  were  anxious  to  get  to  the  races  that 
afternoon,  and  they  made  the  little  boat  fairly  skip  over 
the  water. 

Muckross  Abbey  is,  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  ruin 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Killarney.  It  stands  as  an  or.ia- 
ment  in  the  grounds  of  Mr.  Herbert,  one  of  the  princi- 
pal land-holders  in  this  part  of  Ireland.  A  giant  tree 
is  growing  in  the  centre  of  the  cloister,  spreading  a 
dense  shade  over  this  entire  portion  of  the  ruin,  and 
making  it  gloomier  and  more  secluded  than  ever. 

In  exploring  these  old  castles  and  abbeys,  we  noticed 
how  the  ivy,  that  destroyer  of  new,  and  preserver  of 
old  buildings,  winds  itself  in  and  out,  crunching  the  mor- 
tar and  grasping  the  stones  with  an  iron  grip,  supporting 
the  building  to  which,  as  a  tiny  vine,  it  fastened  its 
tendrils  ;  and  now,  as  if  in  gratitude,  it  throws  its  beau- 
tiful green  mantle  over  the  flaws  and  defects  of  the  old 
structure,  and  thus  it  will  continue  to  protect  and 
adorn  it 

''  Till  the  walls  shall  crumble  to  ruin 
And  moulder  in  dust  away." 


56 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


ili 


Is  not  the  ivy  on  a  ruin  like  a  child  clinging  to  its 
mother  until  able  to  support  itself,  when,  in  its  turn, 
embracing  and  upholding  the  now  tottering  form  of 
the  mother,  it  supports  her  with  its  strong  arms  till 
death  claims  her? 

From  Muckross  Abbey  we  drove  through  the  sur 
rounding  grounds,  which  are  laid  out  in  beautiful  land- 
scape gardening.  The  family  mansion  is  built  in  the 
real  old  English  style,  with  a  broad,  stately  avenue  of 
trees  leading  to  it,  and  a  lawn  like  velvet.  While  we 
were  standing  there,  "  mi  lady,"  in  a  long  riding  suit, 
rode  rapidly  by  with  a  party  of  gentlemen  and  two  or 
three  dogs.  They  were  evidently  off  for  a  hunting  ex- 
pedition, and  all  seemed  m  high  spirits.  The  picture 
was  complete.     We  have  all  seen  it  in  imagination. 

A  few  miles  beyond,  we  saw  Tore  Cascade,  a  perfect 
gem  of  its  kind,  and  had  a  beautiful  view  from  Tore 
Mountain,  which  we  ascended.  We  stood  just  above 
the  falls,  and  an  old  gentleman,  who  took  care  to 
choose  a  very  safe  spot  from  which  to  enjoy  the  beau- 
ties of  the  lakes  which  lay  beneath  us,  was  dreadfully 
concerned  lest  I,  who  was  more  adventurous,  should 
fall  over  the  precipice. 

As  we  were  returning  to  our  hotel  on  the  lake,  a 
sudden  squall  and  rain-shower  came  up,  nearly  over- 
turning the  boat,  and  taking  Uncle's  beautiful,  blue  cot- 
ton umbrella  from  his  hand.  The  men  rowed  very 
hard  to  save  it,  but  before  we  could  reach  it,  it  sank, 
with  a  melancholy  flop,  beneath  the  angry  waves,  and 
one  small  parasol  was  all  that  was  left  to  shelter  us. 
Uncle  had  an  especial  attachment  to  this  particular 
blue  cotton  umbrella,  and  I  had  an  especial  aversion  to 
it.  When  he  bewails  its  sad  fate,  I  try  to  comfort  him 
with  the  assurance  that  the  famous  O'Donahue,  who 
dwells  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  and  makes  midnight 


KILLARNEY  AND  BLARNEY. 


57 


journeys  on  a  fleet,  white  horse,  will  take  good  care  of 
it,  and  when  the  day  comes  on  which  rains  shall  cease 
in  Ireland,  he  will  probably  return  it,  having  no  further 
use  for  it  himself. 

The  morning  we  were  to  leave  Killarney,  I  remember 
to  have  heard,  while  preparing  for  breakfast,  an  inces- 
sant ringing  of  bells,  and  impatient  jerking  of  bell- 
ropes,  while  visions  flitted  before  me  of  gentlemen  in 
their  shirt-sleeves,  peering  from  behind  doors,  and  roar- 
ing after  poor,  bewildered  "  Boots,"  who  ran  about  with 
a  scared  face,  holding  odd  boots  and  shoes  in  his  hands, 
and  exclaiming,  "  C  'ch !  thin  have  patience,  sirs.  A 
bowld  young  gintlcman  of  the  Navy  has  been  changing 
all  thim  chalk  marks  the  night  as  was  on  the  boots,  an' 
I  can't  tell  whose  is  whose  an'  what's  which,  no  more  'n 
these  boots  can  git  mated  an'  fly  to  the  right  doors  all 
aloun  by  thimselves." 

He  was  more  puzzled  than  the  Irishman  who  brought 
two  odd  boots  to  his  master's  room,  and  said,  "  Plaza 
yer  honor !  thim  two  don't  match,  an'  what's  sthranger, 
thir's  two  more  jist  like  'em  down  stairs  in  the  same 
fix." 

When  order  was  finally  restored  at  the  hotel,  which 
was  a  very  large  one,  and  the  guests  were  started  for 
the  depot,  we  had  to  drive  very  fast,  and  then  nearly 
lost  the  train,  for  we  had  all  been  delayed  by  the  young 
officer's  prank. 

When  we  reached  Cork,  our  first  act  was  to  ride  out  to 
Blarney,  plod  through  the  mud,  and  ascend  the  Castle. 
From  the  top  there  was  a  fine  view,  and  under  the  build- 
ing were  some  horrible  dungeons,  which  we  visited  by 
torch-light — but  what  do  views  and  dungeons  amount 
to,  when  there  hung  the  veritable  Blarney  Stone,  sus- 
pended a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  the  ground.  In  order 


58 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


to  kiss  it,  Uncle  lay  flat  on  the  wall  with  his  face  down- 
ward, and,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  stretched  himself 
across  a  space  at  least  four  feet  wide.  While  he  was 
performing  this  difficult  feat,  a  party  of  Irishmen  spied 
him  from  below,  and  gave  him  a  tremendous  cheer. 


Tkisir  Jaunting-Car. 


VIII. 


ENGLAND 


NORTH  WALES— CHESTER  FROM  THE  WALLS — A  LABYRINTH  CK  RAIL- 
ROADS— THE  GREAT  CATHEDRALS — WITCHERY  OF  YORK,  SOLEMNITY 
OF  PETERBOROUGH,  AND  GRANDEUR  OF  ELY  MINSTERS — THE  "  DARK 
ages"—  CAMBRIDGE  AND  OXFORD — "GREAT  TOM  " — KENILWORTH 
AND  QUEEN  TESS — DESOLATION — "  WHERE  ARE  THEY?" — STRATFORD- 
ON-AVON — SHAKESPEARE  FROM  HIS  CRADLE  TO  HIS  GRAVE — INN  OP 
THE  RED  HORSE— SOUVENIRS  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Farewell,  Ireland  !  with  a  glimpse  of  your  beauty, 
a  glimpse  of  your  misery,  and  a  glimpse  of  your  fun, 
we  are  off — bound  for  England,  your  haughty  step- 
sister, who  lies  there  in  her  glory,  while  you,  poor  Erin, 
3it  among  the  cinders.  But  we  will  remember  that 
they  are  the  cinders  of  your  former  glory — your  bravery, 
your  science,  and  your  learning-  -whose  bright  gleams 
lit  up  the  darkest  corners  of  Europe  long  before  the 
first  spark  of  England's  fame  had  been  kindled. 

America  can  sympathize  with  you,  Ireland,  in  your 
present  condition.  She  knows,  from  experience,  what 
it  is  to  be  subject  to  the  sway  of  England.  But  though, 
like  saucy  children,  we  spilt  her  tea  and  broke  loose 
from  her  apron-strings  one  bright  Fourth  of  July,  we 
can  not  forget  that  she  is  our  mother-country,  and  we 
love  to  visit  her.  On,  then,  'ittle  steamer.  Three 
cheers  for  Old  England  !  There  she  lies.  But  no ;  it 
is  her  little  brother  Wales  that  she  has  sent  out  to  wel- 
come us. 

We  land  at  Holyhead,  jump  into  the  railway  car- 
riages, and,  in  an  instant,  we  are  spinning  across  North 

_. :  ._.,..  .(59),-  ..  . 


rm^ 


60 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


Wales.  The  nearer  scenery,  rocks,  castles,  towns, 
bridges,  and  tunnels  flash  past  in  confused  succession ; 
but  raising  our  eyes  to  the  southward,  we  see  the  dis- 
tant, misty,  chalky  peaks  of  the  Snowdon  range,  look- 
ing quietly  down  upon  us  as  we  rattle  on,  very  much 
as  a  lady  watches  a  fly  crawling  round  the  bottom  of 
he/  skirts ;  while  to  the  northward  the  sea  is  rippling 
gently  in  the  sunshine  and  playing  among  the  crevices 
in  the  rocks,  equally  regardless  of  the  important  fact 
that  the  great  Irish  mail-train  is  on  its  way  to  London. 

At  Chester  we  step  out  of  our  compartment  and  let 
the  train  whiz  off,  while  we  turn  to  look  around  us.  The 
plan  of  Chester  is  very  unique.  It  is  surrounded  by  a 
massive  high  wall  in  excellent  preservation,  which  is 
believed  to  have  been  built  by  the  Romans.  Four 
principal  streets  lead  from  four  great  gateways,  and 
meet  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  forming  a  cross.  In 
these  streets  are  the  "  Rows,"  a  name  given  to  long 
galleries  or  piazzas  in  the  second  stories  of  the  build- 
ings, which  project  over  the  sidewalks,  and  contain  all 
the  principal  shops.  This  is  certainly  a  curious  old 
city.  Not  only  are  the  shops  up-stairs,  but  the  favorite 
promenade  of  the  inhabitants  is  up-stairs  too — on  top 
of  the  walls.  As  we  **  circum-promenaded  "  the  city 
in  this  novel  manner,  we  had  a  splendid  opportu- 
nity of  seeing  the  interesting  places.  There  is  the 
beautiful  cathedral  with  its  high  tower,  all  built  of  red 
sandstone,  and  further  on,  the  site  of  the  old  castle, 
which  has  given  place  to  a  county-gaol.  Just  outside 
of  the  city,  at  the  foot  of  the  wall,  is  the  race-course, 
and  beyond,  the  River  Dee,  crossed  by  a  great  iron 
railroad  bridge,  while  in  the  distance  is  the  country-seat 
of  the  Marquis  of  Westminster. 

We  continued  our  walk,  which  now  led  us  through 
the   thickly-populated    parts  of    the  city,  where  high 


ENGLAND. 


6l 


houses,  built  close  to  the  wall  on  both  sides,  shut  out 
the  view  till  we  reacned  the  gate  from  which  we  had 
started,  and  stood  over  it  watching  the  carts  and  car- 
riages as  they  rumbled  in  and  out.  We  then  descended 
to  the  street  by  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  wishing  that 
every  city  could  be  seen  with  as  much  ease. 

From  Chester  our  route  lay  along  one  of  the  great 
thoroughfares  of  England — througn  the  busy,  buzzing, 
whirring,  manufacturing  districts,  whose  two  great  cen- 
tres are  Manchester  and  Leeds.  Railroads  intersect 
this  portion  of  the  country  like  the  veins  in  a  grape- 
leaf,  but  Manchester  is  the  principal  focus  towards 
which,  after  much  winding  and  interlacing,  they  all 
converge  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel.  If  you  wish  to 
travel  through  this  labyrinth  with  any  comfort  or 
pleasure,  trust  in  Providence,  but  don't  try  to  study 
tjie  railroad  maps.  Sunday  overtook  us  at  Leeds,  and 
one  would  think  that  a  spell  had  been  cast  over  the 
city,  so  noiseless,  so  hushed  did  it  seem,  so  contrasted 
to  the  busy  scene  of  yesterday. 

During  the  next  week  we  visited  four  of  the  great 
English  Cathedrals,  York,  Lincoln,  Peterborough,  and 
Ely.  Each  one  seemed  the  largest,  the  grandest,  and 
the  most  beautiful  while  we  stood  within  its  walls,  and 
it  was  not  until  we  had  escaped  from  the  magic  influ- 
ence of  its  presence,  that  we  recovered  the  faculty  of 
criticising  and  comparing. 

When  we  reached  York,  we  obtained  glimpses  of  the 
Cathedral  towers  over  the  house-tops,  and  I  was  roused 
to  the  highest  pitch  of  enthusiasm  before  we  saw  the 
building.  "  To  the  cathedral !  to  the  cathedral !"  was  the 
cry.  Uncle  could  take  it  more  coolly — he  had  seen  Old 
World  churches  before ;  and  he  tried  to  interest  me  in 
the  things  we  were  passing — the  old  walls,  a  bridge,  a 
ruined  abbey,  historical  spots — but  I  scarce  saw  them. 


62 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


Those  towers,  with  their  slender,  pointing  fingers,  float- 
ing against  the  clouds,  had  bewitched  me.  My  thoughts 
bounded  on,  round  every  corner,  far  in  advance  of  our 
footsteps,  till,  finally,  we  reached  an  open  square,  and 


York  Minster. 

there  it  stood — the  great  Minster,  crouched  among  its 
three  towers.  Yes,  it  actually  rests  on  solid  ground, 
and  our  eyes  and  thoughts  quickly  mount  up  from 
doorway  to  arch ;  from  arch  to  niche,  each  with  its 
carv^ed  saint ;  from  niche  to  window,  with  tall,  slender 


r\ 


ENGLAND. 


63 


mullions  interlacing  at  the  top  like  a  forest  of  pine- 
trees  ;  from  gargoyle  to  coriiice ;  and  thus  up,  up,  up, 
through  a  maze  of  beauty,  to  the  tips  of  the  tiny  spires 
on  the  tower-tops,  which  still  point  higher,  higher,  till 
they  pierce  the  clouds  and  the  sunshine,  and  seem  to 
leave  us  at  the  very  gates  of  Paradise. 

But  as  we  intend  to  visit  the  Cathedral  and  not  Para- 
dise, we  descend  to  earth  on^e  more,  and  pass  under 
the  massive,  arched  door-way.  Here  again  we  find  but 
the  carrying  out  of  the  same  grand  design.  A  forest 
of  branching  columns,  birds  stopped  in  the  midst  of 
their  song,  flowers  pluckod  in  their  bloom,  angels  ar- 
rested in  their  flight,  sairts  surrounded  by  their  glory, 
rainbows  caught  before  they  faded — all  these  have  been 
held  fast  for  hundrcvts  of  years  in  the  carved  stone  and 
stained  glass.  But  surely  man  alone  could  not  have 
done  all  this — God  and  His  angels  must  have  helped 
him  ! 

York  Cathedral  had  scarcely  faded  from  our  sight, 
when  Lincoln  rose  before  us.  This  Minster  stands  on 
a  hill,  and  presents  an  imposing  appearance  as  we  near 
the  city.  It  also  has  three  towers,  but  the  fa^'ade, 
though  marvclously  rich  in  statuary  and  mouldings,  is 
less  graceful  and  pleasing  than  that  of  York. 

Peterborough  Cathedral,  which  we  next  visited,  did 
not  resemble  cither  of  the  previous  ones.  The  facade 
consists  principally  of  three  immense,  high,  deep, 
Gothic  arches  that  throw  heavy,  gloomy  shadows 
against  the  wall.  A  shady  old  grave-yard,  with 
broken  slabs  and  illegible  inscriptions,  surrounds  the 
church,  and  the  whole  scene  is  peaceful,  quiet,  sol- 
emn in  the  extreme.  As  we  approached  from  a 
side  street,  chatting  gaily,  the  wind  among  the  trees 
seemed  to  say,  "  Hush  !  "  and  with  voices  subdued  to  a 
whisper,  we  passed  within  the  shadow  of  the  central 


Ill 


64 


AROUND    rilE   VVOKLlh 


arch  and  entered  the  Cathedral.  We  stopped  a  mo- 
ment to  examine  the  slabs  which  cover  the  remains  of 
Catherine  of  Arragon,  and  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  It  is 
fit,  though  strange,  that  they  should  lie  here  together — 
both  so  1  jyal,  so  wronged.  The  body  of  the  old  sexton 
who  buried  these  two  celebrated  queens,  one  fifty  years 
after  the  other,  also  lies  under  the  church,  and  on  the 
wall  there  is  a  picture  of  him  with  a  spade  in  his  hand, 
and  under  it  a  quaint  inscription  in  rhyme.  It  is  said 
that  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  when  these  old 
churches  were  being  destroyed,  Henry  VIII.  was  in- 
duced to  spare  this  one  of  Peterborough,  as  a  fitting 
monument  to  his  Queen.  It  is  even  now  in  excellent 
preservation. 

V\y  Mins^^er  was  another  revelation  of  beauty,  though 
of  a  very  different  style  of  architecture — the  old  Nor- 
man. Imagine  a  tall,  white  column,  at  least  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  diameter  (equal  to  a  Cylifornia  tree!), 
then  place  fourteen  or  fifteen  in  a  row  on  either  side  of 
the  building,  connected  by  great,  heavy  arches ;  think 
of  three  tiers  of  these  colonnades,  arch  resting  upon 
column,  column  upon  arch,  till  they  reach  the  roof  of 
the  building.  This  is  the  nave.  Nothing  could  be 
more  simple,  or  grand.  Then  if  we  pass  under  the  old 
Norman  dome  and  step  into  the  choir,  the  contrast  is 
so  great  that  it  dazzles  and  confuses,  for  instead  of  the 
plain,  heavy  mouldmgs  of  the  Norman  style,  there  is  a 
maze  of  sculpture  and  tracery  resembling  lace-work 
or  ivory-carving.  This  part  of  the  original  Cathedral 
had  been  crushed  by  the  fall  of  the  central  tower,  and 
rebuilt  in  the  Gothic  style  as  late  as  the  fifteenth 
century. 

But  greater  changes  than  those  of  mere  construction 
have  taken  place  in  these  old  minsters  within  the  last 
few  centuries.    The  old  saints  and  angels,  at  least  those 


ENGLAXD. 


65 


of  them  who  have  escaped    tlie  hoofs  of   CromweH's 
horses  and  the    hands  of  liis  more  destructive  soldiers 


seem  to  look  down  from  their  niches  in  dumb  amaze- 
ment at  the  new  order  of  things.  Instead  of  the  grand 
old  Gregorian  chant  that  used  to  roll  through  the  lofty 


rw^ 


66 


AROUND   IHE   WOA'f.D. 


arches,  the  clouds  of  incense  that  curled  up  the  pillars, 
the  learned  old  monk-  who  lined  the  choir,  the  richl>- 
vestcd  priest,  the  file  of  altar-boys,  and  the  crowd  of 
kneeling  v/orshippers  which  filled  the  great  nave — there 
are  now  a  few  cushioned  pews  and  a  desk  or  pulpit  in 
some  distant  corner  of  the  mighty  cathedral,  where  a 
choice  number  of  elegantly-dressed  ladies  and  gentle- 
men assemble  once  a  week  to  attend  the  Church  of 
England  service,  while  down  the  whole  length  of  ihe 
nave  the  rich  colors  of  the  old  stained  windows  fall  in 
unbroken  lines  on  the  bare  floor. 

The  more  I  see  of  the  works  of  the  middle  centuries, 
the  strange^  it  seems  that  they  should  be  called  "  Dark 
Ages."  Our  inventions  and  discoveries  may  be  great, 
but  their  ideas  were  grand.  We  may  have  the  light  of 
science,  but  they  had  the  light  of  inspiration.  The 
greatest  artists  of  the  present  day  can  n'"t  grasp  the 
divine  as  did  the  Old  Masters.  The  greatest  specimens 
of  architecture  they  build  now  can  carry  one's  thoughts 
no  higher  than  the  topmost  pinnacle.  No  !  it  requires 
the  Faith  of  the  "  Dark  Ages"  to  picture  a  Man-God, 
or  to  form  those  grand  old  cathedral  designs  ;  to  band 
together  thousands  of  the  most  skillful  workmen ;  to 
inspire  each  one  to  do  his  best,  even  though  his  work 
was  hidden  in  some  lofty  niche  or  dark  corner  from  the 
eyes  of  all  but  God  and  His  angels ;  to  harmonize  the 
work  of  so  many  brains  and  hands  into  one  grand 
whole ;  and,  finally;  to  have  breathed  into  it  that  won- 
derful power  of  raising  the  mind  at  once  from  the  con- 
templation of  the  wonde  "ful  structure  to  the  very  feet 
of  Him  for  whose  dwelling-place  it  was  intended ! 

But  to  turn  from  the  great  cathedrals  to  the  great 
universities,  Cambridge  and  Oxford.  The  latter  is,  of 
course,  the  most  interesting  of  the  two,  and  on  a  much 
larger  scale.     In  fact,  it  may  be  called  a  little  govern- 


ENGLAND. 


67 


ment  in  itself — a  republic  in  miniature.  It  consists  of 
nineteen  colleges  and  six  halls,  each  of  which  forms  a 
distinct  establishment,  with  its  own  students  and 
teachers,  and  its  own  revenues  and  regnlatJons;  but 
they  are  all  united  under  the  University  government, 
at  whose  head  is  a  chancellor,  vice-chancellor,  and 
other  officers,  whose  duty  it  is  to  preserve  law  and 
order,  call  convocations  and  courts,  license  taverns,  im- 
pose punishments,  and  expel  delinquents.  Each  college 
has  been  founded  by  some  distinguished  man,  beginning 
with  Alfred  the  Great — the  George  Washington  of  this 
republic  of  learning;  and  each  has  its  own  particular 
history  and  associations.  Brazenose  College  derives  its 
name,  odc.y  enough,  from  an  old  brass  nose  which 
used  to  serve  as  a  knocker  on  one  of  the  doors.  Christ 
Church  College,  founded  by  Cardinal  Wolsey,  is  built 
in  a  very  classical  and  imposing  style.  Some  of  this 
learned  information  about  C^xford  I  got  out  of  a  book 
(as  you  may  perhaps  have  guessed),  but  no  book  could 
give  me  an  idea  of  the  beautiful  walks  we  took  through 
the  grounds  of  St.  John's  College,  and  from  Christ 
Church  down  to  the  river  and  the  racing-boats,  through 
a  splendid  bro.:d  avenue  of  trees.  Uncle  went  out 
several  times  without  me  to  ree  Magdalen,  Wadhams. 
and  some  of  the  other  colleges. 

"  Where  have  you  been.  Uncle?  '  I  asked,  one  after- 
noon, as  he  entered  my  room. 

"  To  see  *  Great  Tom.'  " 

"  Who  is  he,"  I  asked  again,  "  and  why  do  you  look 
so  tired?" 

"  I  gave  the  old  monster  a  great  pounding,"  he  said, 
taking  no  notice  of  my  questions.  "  Didn't  }'ou  hear 
what  a  noise  he  made  ? " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  very  much  puzzled  ;  "  I  have  heard 
nothing  but  a  great  bell  ringing  very  spasmodically." 


ii 


i  1 


68 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


Ill 


"  That  is  just  it,"  laughed   Uncle.      "  It  was   I   who 

*  boned  *  it — the  famous  bell  of  Christ  Church  College^ 
that  weighs  seventeen  thousand  pounds." 

"  No  wonder  you  are  tired  ;  but  how  did  it  happen  ?  "" 

"  Well,  when   I  mounted  the  tower,  the  old  sexton 

was  just  going  to  ring  the  bell,  when  he  saw  me  looking 

on  with  great  interest,  and  proffered  me  the  honor  of 

*  boning  the  G''eat  Tom.'     I  accepted,  and  "  — 

"  Poor  Tom,  it  seems,  went  into  spasms,"  I  added. 

On  arriving  at  Kenilworth,  a  pouring  rain  served  to- 
dam.pen  our  bright  anticipations.  After  a  genuine  roast- 
beef  dinner,  however,  at  the  old-fashioned  inn,  we  felt 
courageous  enough  to  defy  the  weather.  After  getting 
out  of  the  omnibus  at  the  castle,  I  had  reason  to  envy 
Queen  Bess  the  use  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  cloak,  for 
no  doubt  we  plodded  ankle  deep  through  the  very 
puddle  across  which  she  stepped  so  daintily. 

At  the  immense  gate,  flanked  with  heavy  towers,, 
which  is  now  used  as  a  dwelling-house,  we  were  met 
by  an  old  man  who  pointed  out  the  path  to  the  castle* 
I  often  wonder  how  they  find  so  many  antique  speci- 
mens of  humanity  to  watch,  like  visible  Lares  and 
Penates,  over  the  fate  of  the  hundreds  of  old  ruins  in 
the  British  Isles.  They  are  always  gray  and  tottering 
like  the  castles.  Whenever  I  meet  one  of  them,  I  think 
of  the  old  family  steward  of  whom  we  so  often  read — - 
who  has  outlived  his  generation  and  his  master's  glory, 
but  who  still  linger  on  till  his  life  crumbles  away  with 
the  last  wall. 

Following  the  directions  of  the  ancient  of  Kenil- 
worth, we  soon  found  ourselves  standing  in  front  of  the 
entire  ruin,  with  its  great  towers  and  broken  walls 
surrounding  an  open  court,  which  we  entered.  After 
ascending  one  of  the  corner  towers  by  a  crumbling 
stairway,  in  each  step  of  which  a  large  hole  was  worn» 


ENGLAND. 


69 


we  mounted  the  highest  of  the  fallen  stones,  and  saw 
the  outside  walls  lying  around  us,  apparently  without 
any  regular  design,  making  a  great  variety  of  angles,  at 
each  of  which  was  a  tower  that  suggested  some  separate 
story  of  history  or  romance.  In  one  direction  was  a 
long,  narrow  causeway  leading  to  the  tilting-ground. 

V\^e  then  hastened  to  explore  the  nearer  ruins.  As 
we  approached  the  grand  old  Banquet  Hall  where 
"  Queen  Bess  "  so  often  presided  in  person,  visions  rose 
before  us  of  great  feasts  and  merry  times,  but  when  we 
stood  in  one  of  the  beautifully-moulded  windows  and 
looked  to  see  the  table  and  the  guests,  we  were  startled 
to  find  ourselves  gazing  meditatively  into — the  cellar ! 
for  it  has  no  floor ;  and  on  raising  our  eyes  to  the  ceil- 
ing, we  were  blinded  by  the  pelting  rain.  We  sought 
shelter  in  a  little  bay-window,  almost  the  only  thing 
with  a  roof,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  plan  of  the  building, 
we  studied  out  of  the  debris  around  us,  the  position  of 
the  throne-room,  the  little  ante -room  adjoining,  and 
many  others,  for  every  stone  in  this  castle  seems  stored 
with  associations.  But  it  is  with  a  melancholy  interest 
that  we  linger  amid  all  this  desolation  : 

"  Where  are  the  high-born  dames,  and  where 
Their  gay  attire  and  jewelled  hair, 

And  odors  sweet  ? 
Where  are  the  gentle  knights  tiiat  came 
To  kneel,  and  breathe  love's  ardent  flame, 

Low  at  their  feet  ? 


"  Where  is  the  song  of  Troubadour  ? 
Where  are  the  lute  and  gay  tambour 

They  loved  of  yore  ? 
Where  is  the  mazy  dance  of  old, 
The  flowing  robes,  inwrought  with  gold, 

The  dancers  wore? 


iPH! 


im 


i 
it. 


I  I 


I 


70  AROUND  THE   WORLD. 

"  The  countless  gifts,  the  stately  walls, 
The  royal  palaces,  and  halls, 

All  filled  with  jrold  ; 
Plate  with  armorial  bearings  wrought, 
Chambers  with  ample  treasures  fraught 

Of  wealth  untold. 

"  The  noble  steeds  and  harness  bright. 
The  gallant  lord,  and  stalwart  knight, 

In  rich  array. 
Where  shall  we  seek  them  now  ?   Alas  ! 
Like  the  bright  dewdrops  on  the  grass. 

They  passed  away. 


"  O  world  !  so  few  the  years  we  live, 
Would  that  the  life  which  thou  dost  give 

Were  life  indeed  ! 
Alas  !  thy  sorrows  fall  so  fast, 
Our  happiest  hour  is  when  at  last 

The  soul  is  freed." 

From  Kenilworth  a  carriage  and  horses,  with  a 
stupid  driver,  conveyed  us  to  Warwick,  where  we  had 
to  be  satisfied  with  an  outside  view  of  the  castle,  from 
the  bridge  near  by,  for  the  family  were  then  occupying 
it.  But  we  did  see  Guy's  CHff,  where  the  penitent  old 
earl  lived  so  many  years  as  a  hermit,  and  lingered  in  its 
romantic  neighborhood  with  great  interest,  for  we  had 
found  a  queer  little  book  telling  us  The  Wonderful 
History  of  Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  his  Doleful 
Lady. 

After  driving  a  few  miles  further  we  came  in  sight  of 
Stratford-on-Avon.  Before  reaching  it  we  passed  Sir 
Thomas  Lucy's  park,  where  Shakespeare  shot  the  deer. 
It  was  so  well  stocked  that  I  thought  one  could  hardly 
be  missed.     Perhaps  Shakespeare  thought  so  too. 

The  house  in  which  the  "  Immortal  Poet "  was  born 


FNGLAND. 


n 


is  a  curious  old  structure,  witli  the  beams  and  rafters 
all  exposed.  It  lias  been  very  carefully  preserved,  and 
serves  as  a  kind  of  Shakesperian  reliquary — that  is,  it 
is  filled  with  curious  old  documents  and  all  kinds  of 
articles  connected  with  the  life  of  Shakespeare  and  his 
family,  even  relics  of  the  crab-tree  under  which  he 
slept  one  flight  when  he  was  "  off  on  a  spree." 

Of    course   we   visited    the    grammar-school   which 
Shakespeare  attended  as  a  boy.     The  house  in  which 


Warwick  Castle. 


he  lived  after  he  was  married,  and  in  which  he  died, 
called  "  New  Place,"  has  been  pulled  down,  but  the 
garden  remains  very  much  as  he  himself  arranged  it. 
The  old  gentleman  who  showed  us  through  the  grounds 
offered  us  some  mulberries  from  a  tree  which  Shake- 
speare planted,  or  rather  from  a  descendant  of  the  old 
tree,  which  latter  died  some  time  ago.  We  next  direct- 
ed our  steps  towards  Trinity  Church,  which  is  situated 
in  a  quiet  spot  near  the  river.      Here  Shakespeare  and 


I" 


'SI 


nffT! 


72 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


his  family  are  buried;  and  on  a  wall  of  the  church  is 
the  monumental  bust  of  him,  erected  by  his  daughter. 
At  some  little  distance  from  the  town  we  passed  the 
meadows  across  which  he  used  to  go  courting  to  Ann 
Hathaway'b  cottage. 

I  think  it  was  very  considerate  in  Shakespeare  to  be 
born,  live,  die,  and  go  courting  all  in  the  same  place — 
it  is  so  pleasant  and  convenient  for  tourists  ! 

The  entire  town  of  Stratford  is  a  real  quaint  old 
English  place,  and  so  is  the  inn  of  the  "  Red  Horse," 
where  we  stopped.  It  is  not  built  like  most  of  the 
houses,  with  the  upper  story  projecting  over  the  under 
one,  but  an  archway  runs  through  the  building  from 
the  street  to  the  court-yard.  From  this  arch  doors 
open  into  the  dining-room  on  one  side,  and  the  hall  on 
the  other,  from  which  access  is  had  to  the  stairs  and 
the  rooms  on  the  first  floor. 

I  noticed  on  the  door  of  one  of  these  rooms,  a  brass 
plate  with  the  words,  "  Washington  Irving's  Parlor." 
The  landlady  invited  us  in  to  see  it,  and  explained  to 
us  that  our  honored  countryman,  Washington  Irving, 
had  stayed  a  long  time  at  the  "  Red  Horse  "  during  a 
visit  to  England,  and  had  written  parts  of  his  Sketch 
Book  in  that  little  parlor.  His  table  was  there,  and 
the  arm-chair  he  had  used  stood  in  the  corner,  with  a 
brass  plate  attached,  upon  which  his  name  was  engraved. 

While  we  were  examining  various  articles  in  the 
room  and  looking  at  the  pictures,  among  them  a  por- 
trait of  George  Washington,  the  landlady  left  the  room 
and  returned  with  something  carefully  tied  up  in  a 
cloth-case.  She  said  that  it  was  another  relic  of  Wash- 
ington Irving,  and,  as  we  stood  expectantly  waiting, 
she  drew  out  a  small,  black  poker,  turned  at  one  end. 

"  He  used  it  to  stir  the  fire  on  cold  evenings,"  she 
said. 


ENGLAND. 


71 


This  little  incident  shows  how  highly  they  value  such 
things  in  the  "Old  World,"  and  how  they  happen  to 
have  so  many  curious  and  interesting  articles  that  have 
belonged  to  distinguished  men.  V'ho  knows  how  many 
people  will  visit  Stratford-on-Avon  in  the  far  future,  to 
see  Washington  Irving's  poker! 


«#^* 
^^.r--^^^ 


Shakespeare's  Tomb. 


I 


i 


4 


■"4'»*^p^'yf»^"»w^  SB^fifp^wwi! 


■  i 


IX. 


LONDON. 

VISIONARY  COMPANIONS — "  THE  GOLDEN  CROSS  " — PANORAMIC  PICTURES 
— WKSTMINSTKR  AlUiEY — HOUSES  OK  PARLIAMENT — UEWILDERING  COL- 
LECTIONS—AN artist's  GENEROSITY. 

The  night  we  spied  the  lights  of  **  London  town*' 
in  the  distance,  for  the  first  time,  I  thought  of  the  scene 
in  OHver  Twist,  where  Noah  Claypole  and  his  bride  are 
travelling  on  foot  towards  the  great  metropolis.  1 
seemed  to  see  Charlotte,  exhausted  by  the  heavy  load 
which  she  was  forced  to  carry,  seated  on  a  stone  and 
asking  how  much  further  they  must  go,  while  her  long- 
legged  lord  and  master  stood,  pointing  his  thumb  over 
his  shoulder  towards  a  cluster  of  bright  specks  stretch- 
ing far  along  the  horizon,  and  gruffly  answered,  "  Those 
are  the  lights  of  London  ;  come  along,  Charlotte,  will 
yer."  There  they  were,  twinkling  in  the  far,  far  dis- 
tance, and  leaving  Mr.  Claypole  and  lady  to  trudge 
along  in  the  dark,  we  whizzed  into  the  midst  of  the 
brightness,  and  were  soon  trotted  about  the  city  in  a 
cab,  though  as  ignorant  as  they  as  to  where  we  should 
"  rest  our  weary  limbs."  After  going  to  all  the  hotels 
mentioned  in  the  guide-book,  and  being  met  at  each 
one  with  the  same  greeting,  "  No  room,"  we  returned 
to  the  depot  in  despair,  thinking  that  London  was  not 
very  large  after  all,  since  it  could  not  accommodate  two 
poor,  tired  travellers.  We  were  almost  tempted  to 
leave  on  the  next  train,  when  there,  at  the  very  spot 

(74) 


ta 


o 


J|jlijif!^t.^«i;i!|',,;|!,;:;,,,,i,j,,i,,l^^^^ 
.A 


a 


l!liJ' 


IL 


LONDON. 


75 


from  which  we  had  started,  we  saw  a  large  gilt  sign — 
"  Hotel  of  the  Golden  Cross." 

"Is  it  a  good  place  to  stop ?"  we  asked  the  driver, 
but  with  a  secret  determination  to  "  stop  "  there,  what- 
ever might  be  his  answer. 

"  Tol'rable,"  was  the  reply,  and  that  expressed  it 
exactly. 

Its  principal  attraction  was  in  being  only  "  round  the 
corner"  from  Trafalgar  Square  and  Charing  Cross,  quite 
a  landmark  in  the  city.  Whenever  wc  lost  our  way — a 
daily  occurrence — in  the  mazes  of  crooked  little  streets 
which  take  a  different  name  every  few  blocks,  we  would 
ask  every  other  straggler  we  met  which  was  the  way  to 
Charing  Cross,  and  thus  we  soon  found  ourselves  on 
familiar  ground. 

I  always  think  of  London  as  a  series  of  vivid  pictures 
— a  shifting  panorama  ;  not  as  other  cities,  in  which  we 
laid  out  a  plan  of  sight-seeing,  and  went  to  a  certain 
number  of  places  each  day.  "» 

One  picture  is  of  a  massive  stone  gateway,  the  en- 
trance to  a  beautiful  park.  It  consists  of  a  large  arch, 
through  which  handsome  equipages  and  gayly-dressed 
people  are  passing,  and  two  smaller  arches  at  the  side, 
under  each  of  which  is  a  magnificent,  manly  figure,  in 
gorgeous  uniform,  with  glittering  steel  helmet  and 
sword,  mounted  on  a  jet-black  steed.  "  What  life-like 
statues ! "  I  was  on  the  point  of  saying,  when  one  of 
the  horses  began  prancing,  and  the  rider  reined  him  in, 
making  him  stand  once  more  under  the  arch.  Then  I 
was  told  that  these  were  some  of  the  famous  Horse 
Guards. 

Now  I  remember  a  beautiful  ride  \.o  Hyde  Park, 
Rotten  Row,  St.  James,  and  Buckingham  Palace.  We 
passed  the  gilded  monument  to  Prince  Albert,  and  the 
curious-looking  exhibition  hall  for  the  industrial  arts 
which  he  patronized.  :. 


76 


AROUND   THE   WORLD 


Everyone  bears  in  mind  some  picture  of  Westminpter, 
and  can  imagine  how  we  lingered  around  it  with  affec- 
tionate veneration.  It  is,  in  itself,  a  monument  to  the 
great  of  the  nation  ;  while  in  it  each  great  man  has  a 
monument  to  himself.  We  forget  there  is  a  present 
while  we  stand  within  its  walls ;  and  the  moment  vve 
leave  them,  the  mighty  structure  seems  to  have  vanished 
away  into  the  past,  and  we  believe  we  have  not  seen  it 
for  years.  Even  when  we  look  on  the  spot  and  on  the 
chair  where  Queen  Victoria  was  crowned,  it  is  difficult 
to  convince  ourselves  that  the  coronation  did   not  take 


Water  Lii.y — Zooi.ogicai-  Gardens. 

place  several  hundr'^d  years  ago — nothing  could   have 
happened  in  Westminster  Abbey  later  than  that  1 

The  next  picture  of  my  mental  panorama  is  the  Par- 
liament House — a  marvellous  structure,  with  a  tower  so 
high  that  the  immense  building  looks  dwarfish  beside 
it.  In  the  open  square  in  front  is  a  noble  bronze  statue 
of  Richard,  Coeur  de  Lion.  The  interior  of  the  Parlia- 
ment buildings  consists  of  broad  halls,  with  portraits 
and  statues  of  England's  great  statesmen,  stained  glass 
windows,  hundreds  of  doors  opening,  I  should  think, 
into  everywhere;  and,  with  all  this,  a  miserable  little 
cramped  room  for  the  House  of  Commons.     A  funny 


LONDOH, 


77 


old  woman,  who  talked  very  fast,  showed  us  which  was 
Gladstone's  seat,  and  those  of  the  other  leading  mem- 


o 

w 


P 

V 


I 


rt '  '"m 


,.«IVf" 


bers;  where  they  stood  when  they  made  speeches,  c.id 
ho^v  they  voted. 

The  British  Museum  is  a  very  bewildering  picture  to 


'^il- 


78 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


%   M 


Hi,!* 


I 

I 


look  at,  or  even  to  think  about.  We  vvandered  through 
halls  of  stuffed  animals,  v/ild  and  tame,  halis  of  birds, 
halls  of  minerals,  halls  of  fossils,  halls  of  skeletons,  and 
halls  of  antiquities — Greek,  Roman,  Persian,  and  Egyp- 
tian. We  wandered  till  our  heads  ached,  till  our  limbs 
ached,  till  we  ached  all  over,  till  we  were  ready  to  drop. 
Then  we  left,  glad  to  free  ourselves  from  the  bewilder- 
ing maze,  yet  sorry  that  we  could  not  stay  and  see 
more  of  its  wonders. 

If  I  did  not  see  enough  of  London,  it  was  partly 
because  our  stay  was  short,  for  we  dared  not  linger  long 
at  the  North,  lest  we  should  fail  to  arrive  in  season  at 
Switzerland ;  but  another  reason  was,  that  full  half  the 
time  we  were  there,  I  sat  in  my  room  at  the  Golden 
Cross,  with  a  severe  cold  caught  among  the  fossils  and 
stuffed  monsters  of  the  Museum. 

Our  visit  to  the  Museum  made  us  rather  dread  the 
National  Art  Gallery,  which  we  knew  would  be  equally 
trying.  But  profiting  by  our  former  experience,  we 
did  not  attempt  to  see  everything,  but  passed  rapidly 
through  most  of  the  rooms,  only  stopping  occasionally 
to  admire  some  master-piece.  I  was  delighted  with  a 
graceful  picture,  by  Murillo,  representing  the  Child 
Jesus  at  about  eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  standing 
between  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  Saint  Joseph,  with 
some  angels,  if  I  remember  rightl",  floating  above 
them.  The  design  was  simple,  but  beautifully  carried 
out. 

One  of  the  distinguishing  features  of  this  gallery,  is 
the  collection  of  Turner's  paintings,  which,  as  we  had 
been  reading  Rus'dn,  we  were  particularly  anxious  to 
see.  Besides  being  scattered  here  and  there  through  the 
gallery,  there  is  a  large  room  enti''ei3'^  devoted  to  them. 
J  believe  Turner  had  some  defect  in  his  eyesight  during 
the  latter  part  of  his  life.      We  noticed  that  his  last 


LONDON. 


79 


pictures  were  blurred,  and  that  many  of  them  had  very 
noticeable  distortions  of  figure  and  atmospheric  effects, 
that  were  not  only  singular,  but  startling.  Some  of 
them  looked,  to  my  uncultivated  eye,  as  if  the  colors  on 
his  palette  had  been  very  much  mixed  up,  and  his  brush 
had  danced  over  the  canvas  at  its  own  free  will.  I  have 
heard  that  Turner  took  pleasure  in  trying  to  imitate 
the  styles  of  different  famous  artists,  showing  that  he 
could  excel  in  all.  There  was  an  example  of  this  in 
a  room  where  two  very  similar  large  pictures  hung 
side  by  side,  one  entitled  the  "  Rise  of  Carthage," 
and  the  other,  the  "  Fall  of  Carthage."  One  was  by 
Turner,  the  other  by  Claude  Lorraine.  Each  repre- 
sented a  portion  of  the  city  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
but  in  the  first,  the  buildings  were  still  in  process  of 
erection,  and  the  sun  was  just  rising  on  the  scene,  while 
in  the  last,  the  buildings  were  in  ruins,  and  lighted  up 
by  the  last  beams  of  the  setting  sun.  As  far  as  we 
could  judge,  they  were  of  equal  merit.  Ruskin  speaks 
very  highly  of  Turner's  generosity.  At  one  time,  when 
a  picture  of  the  la*-ter  was  exhibited  in  the  Royal 
Academy,  the  contrast  of  colors  destroyed  the  effect 
of  the  production  of  a  young  artist  which  hung  beside 
it.  Turner  seeing  that  the  young  man  was  distressed 
about  it,  daubed  his  own  painting  over  with  a  coating 
of  dark  paint,  which  he  left  on  it,  much  to  the  detii- 
ment  of  his  own  interests,  until  the  other  picture  was 
removed  or  sold. 


i 

Ii1' 

st' 

I 

II 

sll*^     " 

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;: 

m  i 

^h?' 

w 


l»jll 


X. 


THE   TOWER. 

THE  THAMES — THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON — TRAITOR'S  GATE— SPECTRES — 
BLOODY  TOWER— THE  LITTLE  PRINCES— "  THE  15L0CK  " — THE  HORSE 
ARMORY — TROPHIES — ST.  PAUL'S — DOVER  AND  THE  CHANNEL — LEAV- 
ING THE  BRITISH  ISLES. 

But  my  panorama  is  shifting  rapidly,  and  now  I  can 
see  the  Thames.  We  have  wandered  down  to  the 
docks,  past  grand  old  Somerset  Palace,  and  stand 
among  the  crowd  waiting  for  the  little  wherry.  It 
puffs  up  to  us ;  a  throng  pours  out  and  we  crowd  in, 
and  again  it  plows  through  the  muddy  waters.  We 
pass  under  bridge  after  bridge,  and  watch  the  smoke 
rising  from  hundreds  of  chimneys,  while,  asserting  itself 
above  every  other  tower  and  steeple,  St.  Paul's  stands 
in  bold  relief  against  the  murky  sky. 

Finally,  we  arrive  .a  the  famous  London  Bridge.  We 
land,  and  walk  through  queer,  narrow  alleys  and  by- 
ways, between  very  tall  houses,  our  noses  telling  us,  all 
the  while,  that  we  are  among  the  fish-markets. 

We  wander  on  round  more  corners,  dodging  through 
the  carts  and  vehicles  that  crowd  the  narrow  streets, 
till  the  Tower  of  London  rises  before  us  and  everything 
else  is  forgotten. 

How  we  shudder  as  we  pass  under  the  first  dark  gate, 
guarded  by  frowning  towers,  and  see  the  teeth  of  that 
fearful  portcullis  grinning  down  at  us  as  we  cross  the 
broad  moat.  At  our  right  is  the  Traitor's  Gate,  whose 
name  tells  its  own  story.  Under  its  dreaded  portals 
(80) 


THE   TOWER. 


8i 


have  they  all  passed,  never  to  return — those  murdered, 
often  martyred,  victims  of  power  and  passion,  whose 
spectres  seem  even  now  to  be  issuing  forth  and  cross- 
ing the  bridge  in  a  shadowy  Une  through  the  foggy  air. 
We  follow  them  and  stand  for  a  moment  under  the 
Bloody  Tower.  I  can  almost  see  two  little  white  faces 
peering  at  us  from  the  square  grating — the  ill-fated 
Royal  Princes ;  here  they  were  murdered.  At  the 
same  grated  window  appears  another  face  ;   'tis  a  gray- 


1 


h 


The  Tower  of  London. 

haired  old  man — Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester.  He  is 
giving  the  last  blessing  to  "  the  gifted,  the  excellent, 
the  beloved,  and  brilliant  Sir  Thomas  More,  Lord  Chan- 
cellor," who  is  passing  on  his  way  to  execution. 

We  follow  on  after  the  gloomy  procession,  and  when 
we  arrive  in  the  open  square  we  tremble  lest  we  shall 
see  the  block,  the  headless  body,  and  the  bloody  axe. 
We  are  soon  relieved.  There  is  only  a  plot  of  £"  cen 
grass   and   a  jabbering  old    raven   hopping   about.     I 


82 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


I 


|i|!    1 


I!  J 


:i  I 


i 


[J  I 
'I 


thought  it  might  be  the  embodied  spirit  of  all  the  dark 
deeds  that  were  hissing  through  our  memories. 

The  office  of  wardens  and  guides  tr  the  Tower  of 
London  is  bestowed  as  an  honor  and  reward  on  vete- 
rans who  have  done  good  service  to  the  country.  They 
are  called  "  Extraordinary  Yeomen  of  the  Guard,"  and 
have  a  very  peculiar  uniform.  They  wear  a  long  belted 
tunic  of  red  and  gold,  on  the  breast  of  which  is  em- 
broidered a  crown,  with  the  rose,  the  shamrock,  and 
the  thistle,  emblematic  of  England,  Ireland,  and  Scot- 
land. To  this  may  be  added  knee-breeches,  long  stock- 
ings, and  old-fashioned  pumps,  with  bright  rosettes  of 
red  and  gold.  They  wear  broad,  low  beaver  hats,  and 
a  great  ruff  around  the  neck.  A  sword  hangs  at  the 
belt,  and  on  grand  occasions  they  carry  a  long,  odd 
mace.  They  are  called  *'  beef-eaters,"  being  a  corrup- 
tion of  buffctier. 

The  warden  who  accompanied  us  was  a  large,  fine- 
looking  man,  who  wore  his  gorgeous  uniform  with  quite 
an  air,  and  was  very  pompous  in  his  manner  of  speak- 
ing, as  if  well  aware  of  the  responsibility  and  honor  of 
his  position.  As  we  entered  the  main  central  building, 
he  said,  **  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  the  White 
Tower,  one  hundred  and  sixteen  ^eet  by  ninety-six. 
Its  height  is  ninety-two  feet,  and  the  external  walls  are 
fifteen  feet  in  thickness." 

•  He  led  the  way  up  a  winding  stair,  and  through  n 
great  many  large  halls.  Stopping  in  one  of  these,  he 
said,  in  a  loud  voice,  that  all  the  party  might  hear, 
"  Queen  Elizabeth's  Armory."  Then  pointing  to  a  cell 
formed  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  he  added,  "  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh's  prison  ;  here  he  wrote  his  *  History  of 
the  World.'  " 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  a  large,  darkly-stained 
block,  showing  the  very  indentures  made  by  the  axe 
when  it  severed  the  necks  of  its  victims. 


THE  TOWER. 


83 


"  Perhaps  poor  little  Lady  Jane  Grey  knelt  by  that 
very  block,"  said  one  of  the  party,  musingly,  "  and  laid 
her  pretty  head  there  to  be  cut  off  with  that  ugly  axe. 
It  may  be  that  her  blood  made  those  dark  patches  in 
the  wood." 

"  Ay ! "  broke  in  another,  "  and  I  dare  say,  the  blood 
of  some  good  old  Jesuit  is  mingled  with  it ! " 

"  I  wonder  if  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  was  beheaded  on 
that  same  block?"  added  a  third. 

The  warden,  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  been  listening 
with  a  condescending  smile  to  these  surmises,  now 
spoke.  '*  No,"  he  said,  in  a  deep,  decided  voice,  straight- 
ening himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  awing  the  whole 
^arty  to  silence  by  his  appearance  of  superior  knowl- 
edge ;  "  Queen  Mary  of  Scots  was  never  in  the  Tower, 
she  was  executed  at  Fotheringay  Castle.  You  will  no- 
tice at  the  end  of  the  room  a  figure  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
life-size,  mounted  on  a  carved  horse.  She  is  attended 
by  her  page,  and  on  either  side  is  an  officer  of  the 
household  in  armor.  On  the  v/all  behind  the  Queen  is 
a  painting  of  the  old  Cathedral  of  St.  Paul.  Fronting 
the  Queen  you  see  a  knight  of  her  period  \n  close 
armor,  in  his  hand  a  tilting  lance."  Thus  he  continued, 
pointing  out  the  various  articles  in  the  rooms,  and  ex- 
plaining all  about  them. 

In  conducting  us  to  the  Tower  Chapel,  he  stopped 
suddenly  on  a  short  pair  of  stairs,  and  startled  u:  by 
saying  abruptly,  "  The  bones  of  the  little  princes  who 
were  smothered  in  the  Tower  by  order  of  Richard  III., 
were  found  under  these  steps."  Without  waiting  for 
further  parley,  he  strided  on. 

The  Horse  Armory  contains  figures  :)f  a  great  many 
armed  kings  and  knights  on  horseback.  It  is  the  most 
interesting  room  of  all,  showing  the  varieties  of  armor 
that  were  used  in  the  different  periods  of  English  His- 
tory.   We  saw  the  complete  suit  made  for  Henry  VIII. 


84 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


when  he  was  eighteen  years  old,  from  which  we  con- 
ckided  that  he  must  have  been  a  slight,  well-formed 
young  man  at  that  time.  We  also  saw  the  armor  made 
for  him  after  he  became  old  and  stout,  which  we 
thought  could  easily  accommodate  two  ordinary-sized 
men  within  its  mighty  compass.  It  was  very  interest- 
ing to  see  the  miniature  suits  of  armor  made  for  the 
different  kings  of  England  when  they  were  little  boys. 
As  all  this  actual,  historical  armor,  is  not  hung  on  the 
vails,  as  is  generally  the  case,  but  is  put  on  life-size 
wooden  figures  of  the  individuals  who  originally  wore 
them,  and  as  the  figures  arc  mounted  on  horses,  also  in 
armor,  and  often  hold  their  lance  or  sword  in  the  attitude 
of  battle,  the  whole  effect  is  very  impressive. 

One  floor  of  the  White  Tower  is  used  for  the  modern 
armory,  and  contains  an  incredible  number  of  fire-arms 
all  in  beautiful  order.  The  walls  and  ceilings  are  orna- 
mented with  pistols  and  swords  artistically  arranged  in 
the  form  of  stars,  crosses,  and  various  geometrical 
figures. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  remember  half  of  what  one 
sees  in  the  Tower  of  London.  There  are  trophies  of 
almost  every  British  hero  since  the  days  of  William  the 
Conqueror.  The  most  modern  relics  I  saw,  were  the 
guns  taken  by  General  Wolfe  at  the  siege  of  Quebec, 
and  also  the  cloak  in  which  he  died. 

When  we  left  the  Tower,  we  took  one  of  the  cabs 
which  we  found  waiting  outside  the  gates,  and  drove  to 
Saint  Paul's  Cathedral.  We  were  not  very  much  im- 
pressed with  the  appearance  of  the  interior.  Its  grand- 
est aspect  is  when  seen  from  a  distance,  towering  over 
all  the  steeples  and  smoking  chimneys  of  the  mighty 
city.     Thus  we  saw  it  as  we  left  London  for  Dover. 

The  next  day,  we  took  passage  across  the  channel 
to  Ostend.      While  the  little   vessel   pitched   uneasily 


rilE  TOWER. 


85 


about  on  the  choppy  sea,  and  the  other  passengers  de- 
serted the  deck,  and  lay  below  in  all  the  misery  of  sea- 
sickness, Uncle  and  I  sat  comfortably  under  the  shelter 
of  a  deck  cabin,  and  let  the  spray  dash  around  us  and 
over  us  while  we  talked  over  what  we  had  seen  in  the 
British  Isles,  and  what  we  still  expected  to  see  on  the 
Continent. 

Now  that  we  had  been  through  England,  Ireland,  and 
Scotland,  we  were  struck  with  the  differences  between 
these  three  countries  that  lie  so  close  together.  Each 
has  its  own  peculiar  features.  Scotland  has  its  rocky, 
barren  moors,  and  purple,  heath-clad  mountains  with 
wooded  glens  and  valleys  between,  each  containing  a 
loch  or  chain  of  lochs.  Ireland  has  its  bogs  and  its 
steep  sea-coast,  cut  into  a  thousand  caves  and  crevices 
by  the  waves  ;  its  potato  and  cabbage-fields,  marked 
off  with  dark-green  hedges,  making  them  look  like 
patch-work  laid  out  on  the  hill -sides;  also  its  old 
castles  and  round  towers  in  every  picturesque  spot  on 
the  island.  And,  lastly,  England,  which  is  like  one 
vast  park,  with  stately  avenues  of  trees  leading  to  old 
family  homesteads. 

"  But,"  said  Uncle,  after  we  had  enumerated  all  these 
peculiarities,  **  there  is  one  thing  common  to -all  three 
countries.     Can  you  guess  what  it  is?" 

"  Rain  !  "  I  answered  promptly. 

We  now  turn  our  thoughts  towards  the  Continent, 
but  with  rather  heavy  hearts,  for  we  have  had  a  great 
disappointment  in  not  finding  letters  from  home. 

"  I  am  sure  they  have  written  to  us,  Uncle ;  but 
where  are  the  letters  wandering,  that  we  can  not  catch 
them!"        . 

"You  mean  that  they  can  not  catch  us,"  he  said. 
"  No  wonder  !  we  never  know  one  day  where  we  shall 
go  the  next.  And  to  my  mind  this  is  the  only  true  way 
to  travel." 


I 


XI. 


BELGIUM. 

MISUNDERSTANDINGS  AND  MISTAKES — DESPEHA  ION  OF  A  BOSTONIAN— 
BRUGES  AND  ITS  BELFRY — A  VOICE  IN  THE  DARK — ROMANTIC  FLAN- 
DERS—GHENT— "  MARKET-DAY  " — THE  GRAND  B^GUINAGE — ANTWERP 
ART — EAU   DE   COLOGNE — AND   O,   THE   CATHEDRAL  ! 

Since  we  landed  on  the  Continent  we  have  had  our 
full  share  of  funny  experiences  with  French  and  Ger- 
man. In  fact,  at  our  very  first  meal  on  this  side  of  the 
Channel,  we  asked  for  dessert,  and  they  brought  us  eggs 
{des  ceufs).  Fortunately,  laughing,  the  language  of  fun, 
is  common  to  all  nations,  and  with  a  small  amount  of 
good  nature  one  can  have  a  great  deal  of  amusement 
here  among  these  lively  foreigners.  It  is  generally, 
however,  at  the  expense  of  our  own  countrymen.  The 
other  day  a  Boston  gentleman  was  sitting  near  us  at 
table,  and  after  waiting  nearly  half  an  hour  for  some 
apple-sauce,  the  gravity  of  the  whole  party  was  con- 
siderably ruffled  when  the  waiter  appeared  with  a 
small  piece  of  dry  toast,  smiling  triumphantly  upon  his 
fellow-waiters  who  had  given  up  all  hope  of  under- 
standing the  Bostonian's  order.  A  friend  of  the  latter, 
after  trying  every  other  means  in  vain,  to  make  them  un- 
derstand that  he  wanted  some  eggs,  finally  struck  up  a 
"  cock-a-doodle-do  !  "  This  had  the  desired  effect,  and 
several  waiters,  with  their  faces  buried  in  their  white 
aprons,  darted  out  at  different  doors  to  bring  him  what 
he  wanted.  '         .  r^  ; 

What  amuses  me  most  is,  when  we  are  a  little  late  at 


BELGIUM. 


87 


a  railroad  station,  where  nothing  is  spoken  but  German, 
and  it  is  almost  impossible  to  make  the  ticket-man  un- 
derstand where  we  want  to  go,  or  how  many  tickets  we 
need,  or  indeed,  anything  at  all.  I  enjoy  the  confusion 
and  flurry.  Once  Uncle  got  between  a  French  and  a 
German  porter;  one  of  them  had  the  two  valises,  and 
the  other  had  grabbed  up  his  shawl  and  umbrella.  They 
both  started  for  the  train,  but  in  different  directions, 
each  calling  after  him  in  a  different  language  to  follow, 
and  he  answering  both  in  English.  The  whistle,  and 
rush  for  the  train,  and  Uncle  heated  and  excited,  start- 
ing first  after  one  of  them  and  then  the  other,  struck 
me  so  comically  that  I  was  still  laughing  heartily,  when 
the  train  emerged  from  the  depot,  and  the  bright  day- 
light flooded  in  through  the  windows  of  the  narrow 
compartments.  There  we  sat  just  opposite  each  other, 
Uncle  still  out  o^  breath,  and  provoked  at  having  to 
pay  both  porters  what  neither  deserved ;  while  our 
bundles,  thrown  in  pell-mell  at  the  last  moment,  were 
scattered,  some  on  the  seats,  some  on  the' floor.  Wasn't 
I  a  cruel  giggler  to  sit  there  enjoying  his  discomfiture, 
while  I  had  only  to  look  on,  and  be  taken  care  of? 
But  all  at  once  the  ridiculous  side  of  the  performance 
seemed  to  come  over  Uncle,  and  he  joined  in  my 
merriment. 

As  the  sound  of  foreign  languages  becomes  familiar 
to  our  ears,  and  we  see  the  desperate  attempts  of  other 
tourists,  our  courage  increases,  we  venture  to  speak 
French  openly,  and  Uncle  even  tries  German  and  Ital- 
ian. But  how  well  I  remember  the  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing I  had  when  we  first  landed  at  Ostend  from  Dover ! 
The  sound  of  strange  words  buzzing  in  our  ears,  the 
French  and  German  signs  over  the  shop-doors,  and  the 
foreign  newspapers  we  picked  up,  all  inspired  me  with 
a  certain  uneasy  dread  of  opening  my  mouth.     We 


88 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


walked  out  in  the  afternoon  to  take  a  look  at  Ostend, 
and,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  a  herald  passing  through 
the  streets,  and  stopping  at  each  corner  to  blow  a  horn, 
and  proclaim  something  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  What  is  he  saying.  Uncle  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Let's  listen. 
Mere  he  comes." 

**  Citoyens!  "  said  Uncle,  repeating  what  the  herald 
said,  as  he  caught  a  word  here  and  there  among  the 
rolling  of  r's.  "  Chien — perdu — ses  oreilles  sont — what  ? 
It's  all  bur-r-r-r— " 

"  O,"  said  I,  "  it's  the  old  story — *  where,  O  where,  has 
my  li^^tle  dog  gone  ?  '  This  is  one  way  of  advertising 
lost  articles.  Set;  there  he  goes  to  the  next  corner. 
What  a  commotion  b:,  makes  in  these  quiet  streets  !  " 

We  reached  Bruges,  from  Ostend,  that  same  even- 
ing. The  next  morning  we  A/ent  to  Mass  in  the  Ca- 
thedral of  St.  Sauveur,  which  (  jntains  many  fine  paint- 
ings by  artists  of  the  old  Flemish  school,  especially  one 
of  the  Crucifixion,  the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever 
seen.  Over  the  rood-screen  is  a  splendid  statue  of 
"  Dieu  le  Ptire."  We  ascended  the  famous  Belfry  of 
Bruges,  mounting  over  for-  hundred  feet  by  a  dark, 
winding  stairway,  and  ho!-i'ng  on  by  a  strong  rope 
w^hich  hung  down  from  the  top  of  the  tower.  "  Where 
are  you,  Nell  ?  "  said  Uncle,  as  he  came  stumbling  up  in 
the  dark. 

"Way  ahead  of  you,"  I  said,  "but  all  out  of  breath. 
I'll  sit  on  this  step  till  you  catch  up." 

"  Look  out ! "  he  said,  as  his  head  came  on  a  level 
with  my  feet,  "  I  hear  footsteps  above  you." 

"  What  a  treat  it  is  to  hear  a  little  English !  "  said  a 
cheery,  deep  voice  coming  down  through  the  darkness. 

I  jumped  up,  and  as  the  owner  of  the  voice  crossed 
a  ray  of  light  which  fell  through  a  chink  in  the  wall,  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  gray  beard,  a  smile  just  above  it, 
and  the  outlines  of  a  coat  and  pantaloons. 


BF.F.GIUAf. 


% 


"  Are  we  nearly  to  the  top  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  O,  not  half!  "  he  said,  laughing. 

"  Suppose  we  go  back,  Uncle !  " 

"  What !  "  he  said,  "  give  up  already?" 

**  O  no,"  I  answered  quickly,  "  I  just  wanted  to  see 
if  you  were  tired." 

"That's  all,  is  it?  Then  we  will  go  on  up  and  hear 
the  chimes." 

**  You  will  not  want  to  hear  them  twice,"  said  the 
pleasant  voice,  now  moving  downwards  ;  "  don't  come 
down  too  fast."  The  voice  was  now  becoming  fainter 
as  it  descended. 

"  Did  you  let  go  the  rope  on  purpose  ?  "  we  called 
down  to  him. 

**Yes — struck  bottom— wish  you  joy!"  The  words 
died  away,  and  we  climbed  higher  and  higher,  till  we  had 
left  the  streets  of  the  town  four  hundred  feet  beneath 
us.  If  you  want  to  look  at  this  famous  old  town  from 
a  historic  point  of  view,  mount  the  old  Belfry.  When 
you  stand  down  there  in  the  streets  it  is  the  Bruges  of 
to-day  you  see,  but  up  here  in  the  airy  region  of  the 
birds,  you  look  down  on  the  red  tiled  roofs  at  your  feet 
and  the  little  towns  and  hamlets  scattered  here  and  there 
over  the  broad  landscape,  through  the  hazy  atmosphere 
of  history  and  romance  that  hovers  round  the  old  Belfry. 
It  is  the  Flanders  of  old  that  you  see,  the  land  of  Maxi- 
milian and  Mary,  of  those  bold  foresters,  famous  weavers, 
and  brilliant  pageants  that  we  love  to  read  about. 

When  the  chime  of  forty-eight  bells  rang  in  our  ears 
we  hastened  down  to  the  market-place,  convinced  that 
they  sounded  much  sweeter  in  the  distance. 

In  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame  is  a  statue  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  and  Child  ascribed  to  Michael  Angelo. 
In  the  hospital  adjoining  are  some  celebrated  paintings 
on  wood,  by  Memling,  and  one  or  two  by  Vandyck, 
and  Albert  Durer. 


m 


90 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


We  left  Bruges  in  the  afternoon  and  arrived  at  Ghent 
about  six  o'clock.  Here  a  commissionaire,  a  long 
enough  name  for  a  guide,  showed  us  around  the  city. 
We  visited  many  ancient  and  historical  buildings,  and 
the  open  square  called  the  Marchu  du  Vendredi,  where 
all  the  famous  city  riots  took  place.  It  is  still  used  as 
a  market-place,  and  as  the  next  day  would  be  Friday, 
the  square  was  co veered  with  frames  and  stalls  to  be 
used  on  the  morrow.  It  is  a  curious  sight  to  pass 
through  one  of  these  towns  on  a  market  day.  The 
people  from  the  neighboring  districts  arc  there  with 
vegetables,  dry-goods,  leather,  crockery,  and  all  kinds 
of  small  merchandise.  They  occupy  the  middle  of  the 
wide  streets  and  squares,  leaving  only  a  narrow  passage 
on  each  side  for  wagons  and  carriages  to  pass.  Women 
with  babies  in  their  arms,  and  children  running  under 
the  horses'  feet ;  dcg-carts  full  of  cabbages  and  carrots, 
"driven  by  little  boys,  who  yell  at  the  top  of  their 
voices,  and  crack  their  whips,  while  the  dogs  bark ;  little 
Dutch  women  with  white  caps  and  short  petticoats, 
buying  and  selling,  chattering  and  quarrelling:  some 
"arrying  heavy  baskets  and  bundles  on  their  heads,  and 
others  sitting  on  the  ground  counting  their  profits  and 
scolding  their  children — make,  altogether,  as  lively  a 
scene  as  one  is  likely  to  find  anywhere. 

While  we  were  at  Ghent  we  went  to  see  the  B6guines, 
a  strange  kind  of  religious  order  peculiar  to  Belgium, 
where  there  are  several  of  these  Beguinages,  or  places 
where  they  live.  The  order  was,  I  believe,  founded  by 
Charlemagne's  sister,  from  whom  they  take  their  name. 
They  do  not  live  in  community  like  other  nuns,  but 
they  dwell  either  alone,  or  one  or  two  together,  in  little 
brick  houses  with  gardens.  There  are  regular  st'"eets 
of  these,  and  the  whole  is  surrounded  by  a  high  wall, 
making  a  perfect  little  city.     These  semi-nans  can,  I 


BELGIUM. 


91 


hear,  invite  each  other  to  tea,  and  each  receives  her 
own  visitors  and  friends,  and  keeps  her  own  house. 
Tliey  have  a  superior,  and  occupy  them.selves  with 
works  of  charity  and  religious  exercises,  but  their  rules 
are  not  many.  There  are  seven  hundred  of  them  in 
this  Grand  Beguinage  at  Ghent,  and  it  is  really  like  a 
town  within  a  town.  We  visit(^d  in  one  of  the  streets, 
a  little  chapel  or  shrine  that  had  been  erected  in 
honor  of  a  Beguine  who  was  considered  to  be  a  saint. 
It  contains  a  number  of  old  crutches,  silver  offerings, 
and  wax  tapers,  attesting  the  miracles  wrought  through 
her  intercession.  There  is  quite  a  large  church  near  the 
centre  of  the  enclosure,  and  the  bell  was  just  ringing 
for  Benediction  as  we  approached  it.  The  Beguines 
were  coming  out  of  their  houses  in  all  directions  and 
moving  towards  the  church.  They  wear  black  habits, 
and  short,  thick,  white  veils,  which  end  in  a  point  behind, 
about  half  way  to  the  waist.  I  noticed  that  each  one, 
as  she  came  out  of  her  gate,  put  on  her  head  a  piece  of 
cloth  folded  square,  making  it  look  something  like  the 
head-dress  of  an  Italian  peasant.  I  wondered  what 
they  were  for,  especially  as  they  were  constantly  slip- 
ping around  and  had  to  be  straightened  every  once  in  a 
while.  But  when  we  reached  the  door  of  the  church  I 
saw  that  each  one,  as  she  entered,  unfolded  the  myste- 
rious article  and  threw  it  over  her  head.  It  turned  out 
to  be  simply  a  long  white  veil,  enveloping  the  figure. 
Wlicn  these  seven  hundred  noiseless  inhabitants  of  this 
curious  city  were  all  seated,  they  filled  the  whole  church, 
and  looked,  in  the  thickening  twilight,  like  a  vast  flock 
of  sheep.  Uncle  and  I  knelt  in  the  back  of  the  church, 
and  when  Benediction  was  over,  we  slipped  quietly  out 
v/ith  our  guide  and  hastened  to  the  hotel. 

We  reached  Antwerp   at   eleven    o'clock   the   next 
morning,  and  went  directly  to  the  cathedral,  where  we 


92 


AROUND   THE    WORLD. 


found  a  Mass  going  on.  After  twelve  the  great  pic- 
tures were  unveiled.  Rubens*  "  Descent  from  the 
Cross  "  is  exquisite.  I  was  agreeably  disappointed,  for 
I  did  not  like  his  other  pictures  that  I  had  seen  ;  there 
was  something  so  coarse  about  them.  But  this  one  is 
wonderful.  He  has  shown  us  the  body  of  a  God  even 
in  the  mangled  corpse  they  are  loosening  from  the 
cross.  He  has  depicted  the  grand  dignity  of  the 
mother  of  God  in  the  sorrowing  figure  that  stands  be- 
neath it.  And  he  has  given  us  a  picture  of  men  in 
such  violent  exertion,  that  we  almost  see  the  quivering 
of  their  sinews  and  muscles.  To  be  sure,  Mary  Magda- 
lene who,  fearful  lest  they  will  let  fall  the  body  of 
her  Saviour,  rises  on  her  knees  and  stretches  out  her 
delicate  hand  to  support  it,  loses  something  of  her 
charm  when  we  learn  that  Rubens  painted  her  not 
from  an  ideal  of  the  saint,  but  from  his  own  wife.  How- 
ever, we  must  admit  that  that  outstretched  hand  and 
arm  is  worthy  of  the  beautiful  penitent. 

The  "  Raising  of  the  Cross"  and  the  "Assumption," 
both  in  the  cathedral  of  Antwerp,  are  very  fine,  but  not 
like  the  other.  I  do  not  think  any  one  man  could  paint 
two  pictures  equal  to  that  "  Descent."  There  were  at 
least  half  a  dozen  artists  making  copies  of  it  on  the  spot, 
and  it  was  quite  interesting  to  watch  them. 

As  we  were  bound  for  the  Rhine,  we  travelled  to  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  and  then  on  to  Cologne,  where  one  of  the 
first  things  we  did  was  to  buy  some  Eau  de  Cologne  at 
one  of  the  numerous  Johann  Maria  Farina's,  each  of 
whom  sells  "  the  only  veritable  article." 

Then  we  visited  the  Church  of  St.  Ursula  and  the 
Eleven  Thousand  Virgins  (more  or  less).  The  walls  are 
lined  with  bones  and  relics.  The  "golden  chamber" 
contains  the  remains  of  Saint  Ursula  and  her  bride- 
groom, with  the  most  notable  of  her  companions,  dr/^ 


I   I 


BELGIUM. 


93 


the  skull  of  the  Pope  who  was  massacred  by  the  Huns 
at  the  same  period. 

By  this  time  it  was  getting  dusk,  and  we  had  not  yet 
been  to  our  hotel,  for  we  had  sent  our  baggage  on  be- 
fore us  from  the  depot,  while  we  turned  aside  to  take 
a  stroll  t'iirough  the  city.  We  now  hastened  our  steps 
in  order  to  reach  our  night  quarters  before  dark.  On 
the  way  we  passed  that  great  pile  of  stone  and  mortar 
which  is  known  as  one  of  the  famous  cathedrals  of 
Europe,  and  which  has  been  so  long  tinkered  at,  but 
never  completed.  How  many  human  lives  it  resem- 
bles !  Beautifully,  heroically  begun,  but,  alas !  the  grand 
design  never  carried  out. 


M 


XII. 


UP    TH  E    RHINE. 


THE  FIRST  GLIMPSE — PLEASURE-SEEKERS — SUNDAY  AT  KONIGSWINTER— 
THE  WAY  WE  WALK — LEGENDS  OF  THE  DRACUENFELS— AN  ISLAND 
NUNNERY — ROMANCE  OF  ROLANDSECK — TIIIRTV-TIIREE  RUINS — SUN- 
SET ON  THE  RHINE — OUT  OF  DREAMLAND — MAYENCE  CATHEDRAL — 
CHARMS   OF   HEIDELBERG — FOOLED — LAGER   IN   RUINS. 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning  from  a  sound  sleep, 
and  remembered  that  I  \/as  in  the  city  of  Cologne,  I 
rushed  eagerly  to  the  window  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the 
Rhine,  that  enchanting  river,  that  region  of  water- 
nymphs,  of  robber-barons,  and  of  impregnable  castles — 
"  castles  in  the  air,"  actually,  for  as  we  floated  past 
them  on  the  water,  they  seemed  far  above  the  reach  of 
mortals,  perched,  as  they  were,  on  the  dizzy  heights  of 
the  German  mountains. 

That  first  view,  however,  was  only  of  steamboats  and 

wharves,  of  a  flat  country  and  a  muddy  stream,  of  a 

dirty  town,  and  an  unfinished  cathedral  towering  over 

all. 

"The  river  Rhine  cloth  wash  Cologne, 
But  what  shall  wash  the  river  Rhine  ?  " 

So  thought  we  as  we  embarked  on  that  stream,  but 
such  reflections  soon  vanished  as  the  hills  began  to  sur- 
round us,  casting  an  endless  variety  of  light  and  shade 
on  the  rapid  waters  now  becoming  clear  and  transpar- 
ent as  we  left  behind  the  busy  thrift  and  turmoil,  dirt 
and  enterprise  of  the  ''  Low  Countries." 

Strange  to  say,  there  were  none  of  our  own  country- 
men among  the  pleasure-seekers  who  filled  the  little 

(94) 


1 

1 

1     i 

1 .:     ; 

1 

4U 

m 


UP   THE  RHINE. 


9S 


steamer;  they  were  principally  Germans.  This  did  not 
prove  as  unfortunate  as  might  have  been  expected. 
Uncle  was  soon  engaged  in  conversation  with  a  gentle- 
man who  could  speak  French,  and  we  learned  from  him 
that  his  daughter  had  be  m  studying  English,  and 
would  be  pleased  with  the  opportunity  of  speaking  it 
with  me.  This  young  lady,  with  her  father  and  two 
little  brothers,  were  travelling  to  their  home,  which  was 
further  up  the  Rhine.  Living  on  its  very  banks,  and 
frequently  travelling  back  and  forth  on  the  river  steam- 
ers, they  were  familiar  with  every  spot,  and  the  stories 
and  legends  they  told  in  connection  with  the  ruins  we 
were  passing,  made  the  trip  doubly  interesting. 

The  accounts  we  had  heard  of  the  way  in  which  some 
tourists  torture  themselves  with  guide-books,  while  they 
lose  all  the  best  of  the  scenery,  made  us  appreciate  still 
more  our  good  fortune  in  meeting  with  such  agreeable 
informers.  It  is  a  very  common  occurrence  on  the 
Rhine  steamers  to  see  an  English  or  American  tourist 
plodding  through  a  large  volume  of  "  Bradshaw,"  con- 
taining a  very  dry  history  and  description  of  each  castle, 
in  very  fine  print.  Suddenly  a  head  emerges  from  the 
red  covers  of  the  book,  and  this  seeker  of  pleasure  and 
inforr":ition  asks  which  is  Godesberg,  or  further  on,  the 
Rheinfels.  '*  Rheinfels  !  "  says  some  one  standing  near, 
"we  passed  that  long  ago;  there  is  Hocheim  just  in 
front."  Scarcely  stopping  to  look  at  it,  down  goes  the 
head  again  to  see  what  Bradshaw  has  to  say  about 
Hocheim. 

Our  first  stopping-place  on  the  Rhine  was  Konigs- 
winter,  and  we  found  it  such  an  attractive  spot,  that 
we  determined  to  stay  several  days  and  visit  the  neigh- 
boring ruins.  As  the  next  day  was  Sunday,  we  went 
to  Mass  in  the  little  village  church,  and  then  we  strolled 
along  the  river  banks  until  we  found  same  shady  seats 


96 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


near  the  water's  edge.  Here  we  sat  and  watched  the 
country  people  as  they  came  from  the  church,  and 
crossed  to  the  opposite  bank  on  a  Httle  ferry-boat 
which  was  anchored  in  the  middle  of  the  river  by  a 
long  chain,  and  moved  from  one  side  to  the  other,  sim- 
ply by  the  force  of  the  current.  Following  the  crowd 
we  crossed  over  too,  and  v/alked  in  the  direction  of 
Godcsbcrg  Castle,  which  had  been  looming  up  before 
us  all  the  morning.  The  airy,  intangible  Godesberg 
we  had  seen  from  Kdiigswinter,  seemed  now  to  be 
transformed  to  a  steep,  rocky  hill,  and  a  winding  stair, 
to  be  mounted  step  by  step.  But  we  stood  at  last  on 
top  of  the  stone  tower,  and  behold  !  the  Rhine  glis- 
tened here  and  there  through  the  landscape,  from 
Cologne,  whose  steeples  and  whose  smoke  could  be 
seen  nearly  thirty  miles  to  the  northward,  to  where  its 
windings  are  lost  to  view  among  the  mountains  which 
break  up  the  southern  horizon.  The  beautiful  plain  at 
our  feet  resembled  mosaic  work,  and  the  villages  scat- 
tered through  the  valley  of  the  river,  seemed  to  me 
like  clusters  of  toy  houses  and  fairy  dwellings. 

"  Which  is  Kcinigswinter,  Uncle  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Just  over  there  at  the  foot  of  the  Drachenfels,  that 
mountain  with  the  sharp-cut  outlines  and  the  ruined 
castle  on  the  topmost  peak — " 

"  Yes,  I  see  that,  and  all  those  other  mountains  be- 
yond, but  I  don't  see  why  they  call  them  the  *  seven 
mountains '  when  there  are  eight,  nine,  ten — any  num- 
ber you  please,  clustered  together.  But  what  about  the 
village?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  see  it  over  there  with  the  queer 
church  tower  ?  And,  by  the  way,  we  must  hurry  back, 
for  I  want  to  make  a  sketch  of  that  pretty  little  altar 
we  saw  this  morning." 

"  If  that  little  thing  down  by  the  river  is  the  village 


Co  1 


UP    1  HE  KlfJNE, 


97 


of  Kcinigswintcr,  I  hope  it  will  grow  before  we  get 
there,  or  we  might  step  on  it  by  mistake." 

Uncle  was  about  to  protest  against  such  an  exag- 
geration, but  I  ran  down  the  steps  of  the  tower  before 
he  had  a  chance,  and  was  fairly  on  my  way  down  the 
hill,  when  he  overtook  mc.  Uncle  always  walks  so  fast 
and  takes  such  long  steps  that  it  is  often  hard  for  mc 
to  keep  up  with  him,  but  I  make  it  even  by  running  up 
and  down  all  the  hills  we  come  to,  and  then  sitting  on 
a  stone  to  rest  while  he,  breathing  hard,  comes  tramping 
slowly  after  me.  In  the  cities,  however,  where  it  would 
be  too  undignified  to  run,  his  long  strides  have  a  great 
advantage  over  my  little  short  steps ;  especially  when, 
with  some  interesting  object  in  view,  he  happens  to 
forget  all  about  me,  until  turning  suddenly  around  at  a 
street  corner,  he  is  surprised  to  find  that  I  am  trudging 
along  half  a  square  or  so  behind  him. 

We  recrossed  the  Rhine  on  the  little  ferry-boat,  and, 
armed  with  pencil  and  paper,  started  for  the  church. 
While  we  were  there  the  vesper-bell  rang,  and  when 
the  congregation  had  assembled  they  said  the  rosary 
and  litanies  in  German.  Then  they  all  sang.  Nothing 
can  be  sweeter  than  the  singing  in  some  of  these 
country  churches. 

Our  interest  now  turned  towards  the  Drachenfels,  or 
Dragon's  Rock,  which  we  next  ascended.  There  is  a 
dreadful  cavern  in  one  side  of  this  mountain,  the  mouth 
of  which  can  be  seen  from  the  river.  According  to  the 
legend  it  was  once  inhabited  by  a  horrible  monster, 
whom  the  people  of  the  country  worshipped,  although 
he  was  a  constant  terror  to  them — rushing  down  on  the 
plain  and  devouring  whole  flocks,  sometimes  even 
human  beings. 

It  happened  in  those  days  that  a  beautiful  Christian 
maiden  visited  this    region,  and   tried  to  convert  the 


98 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


people  from  idolatry.  They  would  not  listen  to  her, 
but  on  the  contrary,  determined  that  she  should  be 
ofifered  to  the  dragon.  Accordingly,  she  was  bound  to 
a  tree  not  far  from  the  cave,  while  a  great  crowd  of 
people  from  miles  around,  were  collected  on  the  cliffs 
above  to  watch  the  result 

There  was  a  moment  of  suspense,  then  the  dragon 
darted  toward  her,  lashing  the  ground  with  his  tail  and 
spitting  fire,  as  dragons  always  do.  The  maiden  looking 
calmly  up  to  Heaven  and  calling  aloud  on  the  God  of 
the  Christians,  had  already  begun  to  feel  the  deadly 
breath  of  the  monster,  when  he  slipped  and  fell.  In  an 
instant  he  was  dashed  down  the  precipitous  side  of  the 
mountain,  his  hideous,  scaly  body  cut  and  gashed  by 
the  jagged  rocks,  and  with  a  terrific  howl  he  sank  be- 
neath the  dark  waters  of  the  Rhine.  That  howl  was 
the  death-knell  of  idolatry.  For  a  moment  all  was  still. 
Then  the  shout  of  triumph  that  arose  from  the  lofty 
heights  above,  was  a  fit  herald  of  the  Christianity  which 
was  to  follow. 

The  young  girl,  now  regarded  as  a  deliverer,  was 
betrothed  and  married  to  a  neighboring  baron,  who 
built,  on  the  summit  of  the  dragon's  mountain,  the 
castle  which  can  still  be  seen  for  miles  in  every  direc- 
tion. A  long  line  of  powerful  barons  were  descended 
from  this  union,  and  the  story  of  the  last  of  the  family 
is  quite  as  romantic  as  that  of  the  first. 

In  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  Prince  Roland,  a  favorite 
warrior  and  courtier  of  the  great  ruler,  was  travelling 
through  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  and  chanced  to  be 
belated  when  in  sight  of  the  castle  of  the  Drachenfels. 
He  made  his  way  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain  and 
was  hospitably  received  by  the  old  baron,  whom  he 
recognized  as  one  who  had  fought  with  him  in  battle. 
They  soon  became  great  friends,  and  Prince  Roland 


ea 


UP   THE  RHINE. 


99 


was  urged  from  day  to  day  to  remain  at  the  castle. 
His  willingness  to  accept  the  baron's  hospitality  was, 
however,  chiefly  owing  to  the  charms  of  his  only  and 
beautiful  daughter,  who,  the  Prince  had  reason  to  be- 
lieve, requited  his  affection.  The  old  baron  approved 
of  his  suit,  and  all  was  sunshine  for  the  happy  pair. 

But  alack !  a  messenger  came  speeding  over  the  hills 
with  the  intelligence  that  Charlemagne  was  going  to 
war,  and  Prince  Roland  must  accompany  him. 

With  great  grief  and  promises  of  everlasting  con- 
stancy the  lovers  parted.  Long  and  dreary  were  the 
weeks  and  months  to  the  remaining  inmates  of  the 
castle.  Secluded  as  they  were  from  the  rest  of  the 
kingdom,  they  heard  only  vague  rumors  of  the  war  from 
stragglers  and  chance  travellers.  At  last  came  the  news 
•of  some  great  battle,  in  which  Prince  Roland  had  been 
killed. 

His  lady-love,  when  the  first  passion  of  her  grief  was 
•over,  determined  to  spend  the  remainder  of  her  life  in 
a  cloister.  Much  sought  alter  by  the  young  barons  of 
the  country  around,  she  continued  to  refuse  all  their 
offers,  and  founded  a  convent  on  a  pretty  little  island 
in  the  river,  which  lies  but  a  short  distance  above  the 
Drachenfels  and  near  the  opposite  bank.  Here  she 
made  a  vow  of  perpetual  virginity. 

In  the  meantime  Prince  Roland,  who  had  not  been 
killed,  but  only  desperately  wounded,  slowly  recovered, 
and  still  true  to  his  first  love,  he  turned  his  steed  in  the 
direction  of  the  Rhine,  expecting  to  find  on  his  arrival 
a  beautiful  bride  and  a  happy  home.  What  was  his 
sorrow  and  dismay  on  reaching  the  castle  to  find  it  dark 
and  deserted,  for  he  learned  that  the  old  baron  had 
died,  and  the  fate  of  his  daughter  had  been  sealed  for 
life,  during  Ills  absence  1 

Directly  overhanging  the  island  with  the  nunnery — 


if 


-«;.TOv,7v?:s?';raErf'B^!SR^;!!H!^'f 


M^^'m^' 


100 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


I? 


i 


which  is  only  separated  from  the  shore  by  a  narrow 
channel  of  water — is  a  very  high,  rocky  cliff,  thickly 
wooded  on  the  top,  and  terraced  up  the  sides  with  vine- 
yards. I  remember  what  a  time  we  had  scrambling  up 
among  the  grape-vines,  and  how  long  we  wandered 
through  the  woods  that  crown  the  summit,  before  we 
discovered  the  single  crumbling  arch  that  stood  out 
against  the  sky  so  prominently  from  below.  This  one 
picturesque  fragment  is  all  that  remains  of  Rolandseck, 
the  castle  that  Prince  Roland  built,  and  where  he  used 
to  sit  at  the  window  watching  the  movements  of  the 
nuns  in  the  garden  far  beneath,  until  he  saw  her  whose 
form  his  lover's  eye  could  detect  even  at  that  distance. 

Thus  he  spent  year  after  year,  and  grew  to  be  an  old 
man,  served  by  a  faithful  attendant.  One  day  he  miss- 
ed a  familiar  form  at  her  accustomed  occupations  in  the 
grounds  of  the  convent — a  funeral  procession,  with 
lighted  tapers  and  solemn  tread,  wound  among  the 
trees,  and  faint  cadences  of  a  hymn  ascended  to  the 
castle. 

At  the  usual  hour  the  old  servant  went  to  call  his 
master,  but  his  eyes  were  fixed  and  glassy  and  his  hands 
were  cold.  Still  seated  in  his  accustomed  place  at  the 
window,  he  had  died  with  the  last  echoes  of  the  song 
among  the  rocks,  and  he  was  buried  under  the  pine 
trees  on  the  cliff. 

As  I  sat  in  the  aich  of  the  old  ruin,  the  bright  sun- 
shine streaming  over  the  vineyards,  the  wind  sighing 
among  the  pines;  across  the  river  the  rugged  outline 
of  the  Drachenfels,  with  its  castle  and  its  gloom.y  cave 
in  sight ;  and  far  beneath,  the  quiet  little  convent  where 
the  nuns  were  walking  in  the  garden,  and  the  Rhine 
running  swiftly  past,  now  glistening  in  the  sun,  now 
blackened  by  the  shadow  of  a  mountain,  its  banks 
dotted  with  quaint  little  villages ;  I    thought    of  the 


ii 

tVy    ; 

UP   THE  RHINE. 


lOI 


story  till  it  mingled  with  the  landscape.  I  was  startled 
from  my  musings  by  the  whistle  of  a  little  steamboat 
as  it  touched  the  landing  below,  and  we  hastened  down 
the  hill,  wondering  how  the  time  had  slipped  away. 

Then  we  glided  on  and  on,  further  up  among  the  vine- 
clad  hills,  each  with  its  crown  of  fabled  ruins.  Thirty- 
three  crumbling  castlos,  and  a  number  of  walled  towns, 
we  counted  that  one  afternoon.  Then  we  saw  the  rock 
of  the  Lurlei,  or  Syren,  who  enticed  a  young  baron,  by 
her  wonderful  song,  to  the  very  edge  of  a  frowning 
precipice,  and  then  disappeared  in  the  waves,  leaving 
him  to  roam  over  the  hills  distracted,  where  he  is  still 
heard  at  night  shrieking,  and  calling  her  by  name. 
There,  too,  is  the  place  where  the  **  seven  sisters  "  em- 
barked and  were  never  heard  of  again  ;  and  here  we 
passed  the  old  tower  standing  on  an  island  in  the  water, 
where  the  cruel  Bishop  of  Bingen,  together  with  the 
grain  he  had  hoarded  so  avariciously,  was  devoured  by 
rats  and  mice.     It  is  still  called  the  ''  Mouse  Tower." 

Just  as  we  landed  at  the  town  of  Bingen — "  Bingen 
on  the  Rhine  " — the  sun  went  down  behind  the  hills 
in  a  flood  of  golden  glory,  and  the  river,  the  vineyards, 
the  town,  and  the  tower,  looked  gorgeous  and  magical 
in  the  glowing  light. 

Here  seemed  to  end  the  glories  of  the  Rhine.  The 
poetry  of  this  river  of  ruins  is  all  among  its  mountains. 
When  we  awoke  the  next  morning  and  embarked  for 
Mayence,  we  seemed  to  have  left  behind  the  dream- 
land in  which  we  had  been  wandering  for  the  last  few 
days,  and  this  part  of  the  journey  was  not  very  interest- 


ing- 


The  cathedral  at  Mayence  is  rich,  and  full  of  fine  old 
monuments.  There  is  a  tablet  to  the  memory  of 
Fastrada,  the  wife  of  Charlemagne,  and  a  beautiful 
monument  to  Frauenlob  (the  woman-praiser),  so  called 


102 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


on  account  of  the  poems  he  wrote  on  female  virtue. 
This  tribute  to  his  memory  was,  I  believe,  erected  by 
the  ladies  of  the  city. 

We  left  Mayence  by  rail  and  reached  Heidelberg  in 
the  evening,  where  we  slept  on  feather  beds  for  the 
first  time.  The  next  morning  we  went  shopping,  and 
with  a  mixture  of  English,  French,  and  German,  man- 
aged to  buy  some  warm  clothing  for  our  winter  cam- 
paign. Then  we  took  a  delightful  drive  along  the  hill 
on  which  the  castle  is  situated.  The  views  were  very 
fine,  and  the  castle  itself  the  largest  and  grandest  we 
had  seen.  With  the  assistance  of  a  guide  we  went  all 
over  this  wonderful  ruin,  even  to  the  cellar,  where  the 
great  Wine  Tun  is  to  be  seen.  I  had  often  seen  pic- 
tures of  it,  and  now  we  really  walked  over  the  top  of  it, 
ascending  by  a  pair  of  stairs  on  one  side  and  descending 
on  the  other.  It  holds  seven  or  eight  hundred  hogs- 
heads of  wine,  and  they  tell  us  that  in  the  days  of  the 
old  Count  Palatines  they  used  to  fill  it  with  Rhine  wine 
every  few  months.  In  the  same  room  is  a  statue  of  a 
famous  jester  who  lived  in  the  castle,  and  near  it  is  a 
clock  which  he  invented  to  fool  people.  I  was  request- 
ed to  wind  it  up  by  pulling  a  ring,  when,  to  my  amaze- 
ment, the  thing  flew  open  and  a  fox's  tail  popped  in  my 
face.  When  I  looked  up  it  was  to  find  the  statue  of 
the  jester  grinning  complacently  at  my  discomfiture. 
Fooled  by  a  fool !  How  they  all  laughed  at  me.  This 
city  of  Heidelberg  must  be  a  delightful  place  in  which 
to  spend  one's  time.  The  castle  is  a  perfect  study  in 
itself,  to  say  nothing  of  the  beautiful  walks  and  drives 
over  the  hills,  and  that  splendid  view  of  the  broad  plain, 
across  which  the  Rhine  glitters  like  a  band  of  silver. 

It  is  strange  that  these  Germans  have  so  great  a  fond- 
ness for  lager-beer  and  the  beauties  of  nature,  which 
they  seem  to  enjoy  most  together.    No  scene  along  the 


UP  THE  HHiyE. 


103 


Rhine  would  be  complete  in  my  recollection,  without  a 
party  of  sturdy  Germans  seated  among  the  ruins,  clink- 
ing their  glasses,  and  roaring  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
in  tones  not  unmusical,  some  thrilling  drinking  song, 
making  the  mouldering  old  walls  ring  again  with  the 
sounds  of  revelry  that  filled  them   hundreds  of  years 


ago. 


I 


Ruins  of  thk  Dracuenfei.s. 


XIII. 


NUREMBERG   AND    MUNICH. 


IN  BAVARIA  —  ANTIQUE  CHARMS  OF  NUREMBKRG  —  MODERN  ART  OP 
MUNICH  —  A  DANCE  ON  A  SCRUHIilNG-liRUSH  —  PALACE  OF  THE 
KING  —  THE  ROYAL  CHAPEL  —  PORCELAIN  PICTURES  —  BEAUTY  ON 
THE  WALLS  —  THE  GLYPTOTHEK — COLORED  STATUES  AND  STAINED 
GLASS— A  GIANTESS — A  WARRIOR— FROM   MUNICH    TO    ULM. 

We  next  spent  a  day  at  Wurz?jurg,  where  we  took 
a  look  at  the  great  bridge  which  crosses  the  Main,  and 
then  went  on  to  Nuremberg.  It  took  us  some  time  to 
see  this  quaintest  of  towns.  We  visited  several  old 
churches,  and  also  the  castle,  from  which  we  could  look 
down  on  the  queer  roofs  and  turrets  of  the  houses. 
Then  we  walked  some  distance  on  the  walls,  and  went 
to  sec  the  old  Council-House,  which  contains  some  fine 
frescoes  and  historical  relics.  Everything  in  the  city  is 
antique  and  curious.  It  does,  truly,  take  one  back  to 
ancient  times.    Uncle  says,  "  See  Nuremberg  and  die  !  " 

And  now  we  journeyed  toward  Munich,  a  place  where 
one  learns  a  great  deal  about  modern  art.  Clustered 
into  that  city  from  all  parts,  one  finds  painting,  sculp- 
ture, ?nd  architecture  of  the  nineteenth  century,  which 
interest  and  please,  even  in  the  presence  of  great  works 
of  the  past.  Indeed,  we  tired  ourselves  nearly  to  death 
during  the  few  days  we  spent  there,  in  our  eagerness 
not  to  lose  one  of  the  beautiful  works  of  our  own  day^ 
to  be  seen  in  that  "  City  of  Art." 

Why,  even  the  "  salle  a  manger  "  of  the   hotel  was 
(104) 


NUREMBERG  AND  MUNICH. 


105 


quite  a  little  gem.     Tlie  wainscoting,  the  panelling  of 
the  doors,  and  all  the  wood-work,  were  finely  carved 


if. 


with  figures,  flowers,  and  fruit,  while  the  pillars  and  the 
walls  were  prettily  frescoed,  and  the  floor  was  of  in- 


io6 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


laid  wood.  One  morning  when  we  came  down  to  break- 
fast late,  and  all  the  other  guests  had  retired,  I  was 
much  amused  at  the  novel  way  in  which  a  man  was 
polishing  the  floor.  He  was  in  his  stocking-feet  with  a 
scrubbing-brush  strapped  to  one  foot.  This  foot  he 
slid  along  from  side  to  side,  the  other  hopping  after  it, 
and  thus  he  performed  quite  a  fancy  dance  around  the 
tables  and  pillars,  lifting  the  chairs  out  of  his  way  as  he 
glided  on,  without  ceasing  the  rapid  zigzag  motion. 
It  was  quite  as  lively  as  a  jig. 

Our  hotel  was  not  more  than  a  block  from  the  Bo- 
tanical Gardens,  so  they  were  naturally  among  the  first 
sights  to  be  seen.  They  were  very  large,  and  of  course 
wc  could  not  see  near  as  much  of  them  as  we  wished, 
for  that  would  take  weeks  instead  of  hours.  The  most 
interesting  thing  to  me  was  the  collection  of  tropical 
plants.  There  Mas  a  full-grown  nalm-tree  enclosed  in 
an  immense  dome-like  green-house,  together  with  cac- 
tuses, banana  plants,  and  a  great  variety  of  rarities 
which  I  stood  gazing  at  in  wonder,  always  keeping  at  a 
respectful  distance,  not  daring  to  touch  them,  much  less 
to  pluck  one  of  their  leaves.  I  little  dreamed  that  in  a 
few  months  I  would  be  in  their  native  regions,  walking 
through  groves  of  them  and  picking  as  much  of  their 
fruit  as  I  liked. 

One  of  our  most  interesting  visits  at  Munich  was  to 
the  Royal  Palace.  The  King  of  Bavaria  was  in  the 
country,  and  strangers  were  allowed  to  go  through  it 
during  his  absence.  There  was  such  a  number  of  outer 
courts  and  inner  courts,  and  long  corridors  with  many 
twistings  and  turnings,  through  which  the  guide  con- 
ducted us,  that  I  have  not  a  very  connected  idea  of  the 
building.  I  know  that  one  of  the  beauties  they  showed 
in  the  way  of  art,  was  the  Royal  chapel.     The  king's 


NUREMBERG  AND  MUNICH. 


107 


private  chaplain,  a  venerable,  white-haired  priest,  un- 
locked the  door  for  us,  and  let  us  in.  It  is  small  and 
rather  dark  on  first  entering — the  only  light  coming 
through  one  or  two  very  richly-stained  glass  windows. 
The  ground-work  of  the  entire  chapel,  both  ceiling  and 
walls,  is  of  solid  gilt,  on  which  are  exquisite  frescoes 
rcpresenti  ig  religious  subjects,  painted  by  modern  Ger- 
man artists,  whom  the  courtly  old  chaplain  seemed  ta 
name  with  appreciative  pride,  as  he  called  our  attention 
to  their  beautiful  productions. 

This  was  only  a  glimpse  of  what  was  to  follow.  We 
were  conducted  through  a  long  corridor,  hung  with 
portraits  of  the  kings  and  queens  of  Bavaria ;  then 
through  whole  suits  of  apartments,  in  room  after  room, 
where  each  wall  was  a  beautiful  fresco  with  life-size 
figures,  representing  some  scene  in  history;  while  each 
floor  was  a  marvel  of  inlaid  work,  sometimes  of  precious 
woods,  then  again  of  marbles.  The  furniture  was  in 
keeping  —luxurious  chairs  and  divans  of  gilt,  cushioned 
with  satin  and  velvet  of  different  colors ;  mosaic  tables, 
where  each  tint  in  the  flowers  and  leaves  showed  us 
some  new  variety  of  rare  marble ;  chests  and  cabinets 
studded  with  amethysts,  rubies,  and  other  precious 
stones ;  and  great,  old-fashioned  beds,  curtained  with 
silk  and  satin.  Richest  of  all  wss  the  throne-room.  It 
is  still  quite  dazzling,  though  dimmed  with  the  tarnish 
of  many  years.  A  small  reception-room  adjoining  it  is 
a  most  peculiar  work  of  art.  The  walls  are  entirely  con- 
cealed by  small  pictures,  representing  both  Christian  and 
mythological  subjects,  minutely  painted  on  porcelain, 
each  picture  being  about  ten  inches  square,  and  all  set 
in  a  delicate  frame-work  of  gilt,  reaching  from  ceiling 
to  floor.  Some  of  them  are  copies  of  famous  paintings,. 
others  are  originals,  and  we  became  so  interested    iw 


^r 


\^ 


ro8 


A/^OC/XD  THE   WORLD. 


them  that  we  stooped  down  to  sec  the  lowest  ones,  and 
raised  on  tiptoe  to  examine  those  above  our  heads, 
finding  them  all  done  with  equal  care.  But  we  had 
to  leave  them  before  we  were  half  satisfied,  for  the 
janitor  came  around  clinking  his  keys  to  remind  us  that 
our  time  was  limited.  As  we  entered  a  large  room, 
hung  with  oil-paintings  of  Bavarian  battle  scenes,  we 
heard  drums  beating  outside,  and  presently  a  whole 
band  struck  up  a  stirring  march.  We  all  hurried  to  the 
windows  just  in  time  to  see  a  large  body  of  Bavarian 
soldiers  moving  along  the  broad,  magnificent  street  in 
front  of  the  palace.  They  had  been  ordered  to  another 
part  of  the  country  and  were  just  beginning  the  march. 
It  was  a  splendid  sight,  and  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  we 
had  before  us  the  heroes  of  those  battle  scenes  on  the 
walls. 

The  next  two  rooms  were  filled  with  portraits  of 
beautiful  women,  most  of  whi  "i  were  painted  during 
the  reign  of  the  old  monarch,  father  to  the  present 
king.  It  is  said  that  whenever  he  particularly  admired 
the  beauty  of  some  woman,  no  matter  to  what  country 
or  condition  in  life  she  belonged,  he  employed  one  of 
the  best  artists  of  the  times  to  paint  her  portrait  and 
place  it  in  the  palace.  In  this  way  it  happened  that  he 
had  a  most  remarkable  collection  of  striking  faces.  One 
of  them  haunts  me  still.  It  is  that  of  a  pretty  young 
peasant  girl,  wearing  a  coquettish  little  white  bonnet, 
and  carrying  a  prayer-book  .and  rosary,  evidently  on 
her  way  to  church.  Her  eyes  are  cast  down  very  mod- 
estly, almost  concealed  by  her  long  lashes,  but  for  all 
that  there  is  a  marvelous  deal  of  frolic  and  mischiet 
there,  that  seems  to  be  trying  very  hard  to  get  the 
better  of  the  piety.  One  can  not  help  exclaiming,  "  Isn't 
she  a  little  rogue ! "  •  ■ 

Munich  reminded  me  somewhat  of  Washington,  on 


NUREMBERG  AND  MUNICH. 


109 


account  oftlic  number  and  magnificence  of  its  public 
buildings,  which  are  principally  of  white  marble.  He- 
sides  the  Hall  of  Fame  for  receiving  the  busts  of  cele- 
brated Bavarians,  and  numerous  other  large  establish- 
ments, there  are  the  Glyptothek  and  the  Pinakoteck, 
built  in  imitation  of  old  Greek  architecture,  and  con- 
taining splendid  collections  of  paintings  and  ancient 
statuary.  Near  them  is  a  triumphal  arch,  looking  as 
clean  and  white  as  I  imagine  some  of  those  in  Rome 
looked  a  thousand  years  ago.  There  is  a  great  obelisk 
in  the  centre  of  the  square,  made  of  cannon  which  the 
Bavarians  captured  from  the  Russians  in  1812. 

After  spending  a  few  hours  among  the  old  gods  and 
goddesses  of  the  Glyptothek,  we  went  from  this  quiet 
region  of  paganism  and  the  past,  to  the  large  and  busy 
establishment  of  Meyer's,  a  centre  of  modern.  Christian 
art,  from  which  colored  statuary  and  church  ornaments 
are  sent  to  all  parts  of  Christendom.  This  does  not, 
I  believe,  fai!  into  the  ordinary  routine  of  sight-seeing, 
but  Uncle  wished  to  order  some  statues  for  his  altar, 
and  Mr.  Meyer  took  us  over  the  whole  establishment. 
We  went  through  several  large  rooms  in  which  men 
and  boys  of  all  ages  were  painting  the  statues.  When 
we  passed  one  that  pleased  us  we  would  ask  for  what 
place  it  was  intended.  There  were  several  for  Great 
Britain  and  Russia,  but  more  had  been  ordered  for  the 
United  States  than  any  other  country.  Among  other 
things,  they  were  making  a  very  elaborately-carved 
altar  for  a  church  in  New  Orleans. 

An  establishment  of  this  kind  is  interesting  to  see, 
but  dry  to  write  about.  For  instance,  while  there  one 
can  watch  the  artists  working  in  the  damp  clay,  each 
touch  he  gives  it  changing  the  whole  expression  of  the 
face,  sometimes  imparting  a  new  grace  or  characteristic 
feature,  then  again,  by  some  unlucky  stroke  spoiling 


"W 


no 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


what  was  already  there.  Indeed,  though  only  stopping 
to  watch  him  a  moment,  one  becomes  almost  as  intent 
upon  the  work  as  the  artist  himself,  and  turns  away 
with  reluctance. 

Those  who  have  statues  made  here  send  a  drawing 
or  sketch  of  what  they  wish  to  order,  and  from  this  the 
clay  model  is  made.  A  plaster  cast  is  then  prepared, 
from  which  the  wooden  statue  is  carved.  When  this 
is  completed  it  goes  to  another  part  of  the  building 
and  is  colored.  Thus  it  undergoes  five  different  trans- 
formations before  it  is  finished  and  ready  to  be  sent  ta 
its  destination. 

We  visited  one  room  where  a  man  was  at  work  on  a 
wooden  statue,  eight  feet  high,  a  copy  of  Guido  Reni's 
magnificent  "  St.  Michael,"  the  original  of  which  is  in 
the  church  of  the  Capuchins  at  Rome.  The  workman 
was  just  giving  it  a  few  finishing  touches,  and  chipping 
away  at  the  devil's  horns  when  we  entered.  The  figure 
was  supported  horizontally  on  two  blocks,  so  that  he 
could  work  with  more  ease.  As  he  continued  ham- 
mering rapidly,  making  the  tiny  chips  fly  here  and 
there,  I  thought  how  one  little  slip  of  the  chisel  would 
destroy  that  beautiful  production  of  so  many  hours 
and  days  of  close  attention  and  labor.  Each  scale  of 
the  archangel's  armor,  and  each  lace  of  the  sandals 
was  carved  with  wonderful  minuteness.  While  we 
were  examining  it,  Mr.  Meyer  called  several  men  and 
had  the  statue  placed  upright,  so  that  we  could  enjoy 
the  full  effect.  I  had  often  seen  engravings  of  this 
famous  conception,  but  how  tame  they  were  compared 
with  the  life-like  figure  before  us  ! 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  beautiful  stained  glass 
of  Munich.  I  remember  that  one  of  the  windows  in 
the  Cathedral  at  Albany  is  from  there.  Of  course  we 
visited  this  great  factory,  too,  which  was  founded  and 


NUREMBERG  AND  MUNICH. 


II  I 


supported  by  the  late  king — a  great  patron  of  art,  by 
the  way,  and  to  whom  Munich  is  principally  indebted 
for  her  present  preeminence  in  that  line. 

After  some  delay  in  hunting  up  the  janitor  and  un- 
locking doors,  we  were  finally  allowed  to  enter,  and 
were  shown  into  an  apartment  where  we  saw  a  large 
V  ii:dow  just  completed  and  joined  together,  which  was 
about  to  be  sent  to  England.  Then  we  wefe  led  into 
a  darkened  room  where  they  had  an  arrangement 
something  like  a  stereoscope,  filled  with  stained  glass 
pictures,  placed  in  such  a  way  that  the  light  fell 
through  them  as  it  would  through  a  window.  I  had 
not  the  least  idea  that  stained  glass  could  be  made 
so  exquisitely  beautiful.  It  was  impossible  to  see 
where  it  was  joined,  though  each  design  consisted 
of  many  separate  pieces.  There  were  fine  represen- 
tations of  natural  scenery,  especially  of  mountains, 
cascades,  and  snow-scenes  among  the  Tyrolean  Alps ; 
copies  of  some  of  Raphael's  principal  madonnas;  and  a 
quantity  of  miscellaneous  subjects.  They  were  indeed 
as  perfect  as  oil  paintings,  and,  in  addition,  had  the 
peculiar  soft  light  that  is  only  seen  through  stained 
glass. 

Many  of  the  prominent  German  artists  have  assisted 
in  adorning  the  various  churches  of  Munich  with  sculp- 
ture and  painting,  but  we  were  particularly  pleased  with 
the  Frauenkirche,  a  curious  old  cathedral,  into  which — 
drawn  by  some  unaccountable  attraction — ^we  nearly 
always  happened  to  stray  before  the  day  was  over.  We 
found  it  a  real  rest,  after  the  hurry  and  excitement  of 
sight-seeing,  to  sit  or  kneel  for  awhile  in  the  dark, 
silent  old  kircJie  which  at  this  time  in  the  evening  was 
generally  deserted,  except  that  now  and  then  a  peasant 
or  day-laborer  on  his  way  home  would  siep  in  to  say  a 
short  prayer  before  some  favorite  shrine. 


¥ 


112 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


On  Sunday  we  went  to  High  Mass  in  the  Cathedral, 
and  were  just  seated,  when  I  heard  an  unusual  noise  in 
the  back  of  the  church,  and  a  heavy  tramp,  tramp, 
tramp,  of  feet.  On  looking  round  I  was  startled  to  see 
a  body  of  soldiers,  in  full  uniform,  marching  up  the 
middle  aisle.  What  could  it  mean,  I  thought.  My 
mind  at  once  reverted  to  Pope  Gregory  and  Thomas  a 
Becket,  and  with  my  imagination  still  picturing  bloody 
scenes,  and  priests  dragged  irreverently  from  the  altar, 
I  looked  hurriedly  around  at  the  congregation.  When 
I  saw  they  were  unconcernedly  saying  their  prayers, 
and  that  the  soldiers  marched  quietly  up  to  the  altar 
and  took  their  places,  and  finally,  that  at  the  consecra- 
tion and  elevation,  they  made  a  military  salute  and 
remained  reverently  on  their  knees,  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  must  be  an  ordinary  and  peaceable  spec- 
tacle. Moreover,  being  by  this  time  rather  ashamed  of 
my  little  scare,  I  resolved  to  keep  it  to  myself.  So 
when,  after  Mass,  Uncle  alluded  to  the  soldiers  I  quietly 
said  : 

"  Why,  yes,  it  was  a  very  pretty  sight.  I  suppose 
they  do  that  every  Sunday  !  " 

The  great  wonder  of  Munich  ')'•>  the  colossal  statue  of 
Bavaria  by  Schwanthalcr,  which  stands  in  the  Theresian 
Meadow  just  outside  the  city.  From  a  distance  it  ap- 
peared to  be  of  the  natural  human  height,  but  as  we 
came  nearer  and  nearer,  it  kept  growing  and  growing, 
just  as  those  mysterious  people  do  in  ghost-stories, 
until  at  last  we  found  ourselves  standing  under  a  great 
giantess,  holding  a  wreath  of  laurel  high  above  her 
head,  and  with  a  lion  crouched  at  her  feet.  The  statue 
is  made  of  bronze,  sixty-four  feet  high,  and  if  you  take 
the  granite  pedestal  into  consideration  (which  is  quite 
necessary  if  you  try  to  ascend  this  gigantic  lady),  the  top 
of  lier  head  is  a  hundred  and  twenty  or  thirty  feet  from 


NUREMBERG  AXD  MUNICH. 


"3 


the  ground.  We  found  it  comparatively  easy  to  mount 
inside  of  her  by  a  little  winding  iron  staircase,  as  long 
as  we  were  under  her  skirts,  but  we  had  to  stoop  a  little 
when  we  reached  the  waist,  and  it  was  really  quite  a 
feat  to  get  through  the  neck.  Once  safely  in  her  head, 
there  were  comfortable  seats  for  eight  persons,  and  a 
pleasant  look-out  over  the  city  from  a  little  hole  near 
tne  ear.  But  it  is  time  we  were  saying  good-bye  to 
Bavaria. 

When  we  were  leaving  the  hotel  for  the  cars  a  mili- 
tary gentleman  entered,  and  as  we  saw  all  the  attend- 
ants bowing  very  low,  and  paying  him  particular 
attention,  while  we  were  left  to  take  care  of  ourselves, 
we  ventured  to  ask  who  the  distinguished  individual 
might  be?  We  were  told  that  he  was  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Bavarian  forces,  who  had  won  a  great 
reputation  during  the  late  Franco-Prussian  war! 

As  the  train  left  the  depot  we  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  gloomy  waters  of  the  River  Iser,  and  as  my  mind 
was  still  dwelling  on  warlike  scenes,  those  old  lines  so 
familiar  to  every  school-boy,  about  the  battle  of  Hohen- 
linden,  wl  :h  was  fought  near  here,  kept  coming  back  to 
me  again  a  d  again,  until  the  very  train,  as  it  jolted  and 
rumbled  along  towards  Ulm,  seemed  to  be  mumbling 
over  the  words  to  a  rattling,  jogging  tune,  always  keep- 
inci  to  the  one  verse : 


"And  dark  as  winter  was  the  flow 
Of  Iscr  rolling  rapidly." 


XIV. 
SUMMIT-GAZING. 

SWITZERLAND  AND  THE  TYROLEAN  ALPS — A  LEGEND  OF  LAKE  CON- 
STANCE— GERMAN  ROOFS  AND  SWISS  COTTAGES — A  PEv^ULIAK  INTRO- 
DUCTION— ZURICH   AT   NIGHT — MOUNTAINS    IN   THE   AIR. 

*  CArt  round  with  rugged  mountains 

The  fair  Lake  Constance  lies  ; 
In  her  blue  heart  rejected 

Shine  back  the  starry  skies, 
And  watching  each  white  cloudlet 

Float  silently  and  slow, 
You  think  a  piece  of  Heaven 

Lies  on  our  earth  below. " 


Those  beautiful  lines  were  continually  in  my  mind 
during  the  two  or  three  hours  we  spent  in  crossing  Lake 
Constance.  A  lunch  was  brought  to  us  on  the  deck  of 
the  little  steamer,  and  we  sat  there  watching  with  in- 
terest the  Swiss  shore  of  the  lake  which  we  were  ap- 
proaching. I  had  always  looked  up  to  Switzerland  in 
my  dreams  as  something  entirely  beyond  my  reach ; 
here,  to  be  sure,  I  was  looking  up  to  it,  and  its  lofty 
mountains,  but  in  a  real,  not  an  ideal  sense.  To  our  left 
were  the  Tyrolean  Alps,  and  overhanging  the  lake  in 
that  direction  v/as  Bregenz,  "  that  quaint  city,"  about 
which  Adelaide  Proctor  tells  a  thrilling  legend. 

It  is  of  a  Tyrol  maiden  who  has  fled  from  her  home 

to  toil  in  the  Swiss  valleys,  and  as  the  years  pass,  she 

ceases  to  think  of  her  native  country  or  language  save 

in  her  prayers,  and  the  songs  she  sings  to  the  children 

(114) 


SUMMIT-GAZING. 


"5 


around  her.  She  hears  rumors  of  a  war  with  Austria, 
but  she  thinks  Httle  of  it,  until  one  night,  when  a  large 
party  of  men  are  gathered  for  a  feast  in  the  house,  and 
she  hears  them  drink  to  '*  the  downfall  of  an  accursed 
land  ;  "  they  tell  how  Bregenz,  the  enemy's  stronghold, 
will  be  attacked  that  night,  while  the  unsuspecting  in- 
habitants are  sleeping  soundly.  This  rouses  all  the 
maiden's  love  of  country.  She  thinks  of  her  native 
hills,  of  the  battlements  and  towers  of  her  own  beauti- 
ful town,  and  the  faces  of  her  friends.  The  men  around 
her  are  no  longer  kind  masters,  but  her  enemie.5 — the 
bitter  enemies  of  her  country.  She  hesitates  not  a 
moment,  but  speeds  to  the  stables  where  the  white 
charger  who  feeds  from  her  hand,  is  standing  in  his  stall. 
She  mounts  him,  and  swiftly  as  the  wind  they  dash 
through  the  darkness.  As  they  pass  village  after 
village  she  hears  the  clocks  strike  "  nine  !  "  "  ten  !  " 
"eleven!"  and  still  they  rush  madly  on,  and  still  she 
cries,  "  Faster !  faster !  "  At  last  she  hears  the  roaring 
waters  of  the  Rhine,  and  the  horse,  frightened,  starts 
back — but  he  knows  the  voice  that  is  urging  him  for- 
ward in  agonized  tones,  and  he  plunges  in.  The  cur- 
rent is  fierce  and  rapid,  but  he  struggles  through  and 
staggers  up  the  opposite  bank.  She  sees  the  lights  of 
home  far  above ;  they  gallop  up  the  heights,  and 
reach  the  gate  of  the  city  as  the  clock  strikes  twelve. 
Her  task  is  done,  the  sentinels  are  roused,  and  Bregenz 
defies  the  army  that  marches  against  her. 

This  was  three  hundred  years  ago,  but  there  is  still 
an  old  gateway  in  the  town  with  a  carving  of  the 
maiden's  ride.  A  warden  paces  up  and  down  all  night, 
calling  out  the  hours  as  they  pass,  and 


"  When  midnight  pauses  in  the  skies 
He  calls  the  maiden's  name  !  " 


r 


ii6 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


ii 


»- 


From  Lake  Constance  we  went  by  train  to  Zurich. 
I  was  struck  with  the  difference  between  this,  my  first 
ride  in  Switzerland,  and  the  ride  of  the  day  before  in 
Germany.  They  were  both  beautiful  and  picturesque 
as  could  be,  but  there  is  a  difference  even  in  one's  very 
sensations  in  the  two  countries.  Those  solid  little 
Germ:in  villages,  where  the  houses,  with  heavy  red-tiled 
roofs  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground,  are  clustered 
around  the  country  church,  with  its  quaint,  straight, 
square  tower,  and  whcic  the  neighboring  hills  and 
valleys  seem  to  drink  in  the  sunshine — give  you  a  real 
snug,  cosy,  sleepy  feeling  as  if  this  world  was  such  a 
comfortable  place.  On  the  other  hand,  those  airy  little 
Swiss  cottages,  with  their  light  wooden  balconies,  scat- 
tered over  the  valleys  and  up  the  hill-sides,  while  the 
sunbeams  fairly  dance  over  the  mountain  peaks,  and  on 
the  haystacks,  and  the  peasants  singing  at  their  work — 
inspire  you  with  a  light-hearted,  happy  feeling,  that 
leads  you  to  imagine  that  you  too  could  dance  up  the 
mountains,  over  the  clouds,  and,  indeed,  right  into 
Heaven. 

We  reached  Zurich  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  it 
was  a  delightful  day,  we  walked  out  on  a  little  explor- 
ing expedition  through  the  grounds  of  the  hotel.  We 
found  that  they  extended  to  the  very  shores  of  the 
lake,  and  we  remained  close  to  the  water's  edge  watch- 
ing the  sun  sink  slowly  behind  the  mountains.  As  I 
stood  there  I  began  to  write  words  in  the  gravel  with 
the  end  of  my  parasol,  when  all  at  once  I  heard,  "  O,  you 
are  English  !  "  from  a  voice  just  behind  me.  I  turned 
suddenly,  and  there  stood  a  pieasant-looking  old  Eng- 
lish gentleman,  who,  like  ourselves,  had  come  to  see  the 
sunset.  He  drew  a  puzzle  on  the  gravel  walk  and  asked 
me  if  I  could  decipher  it.  I  just  happened  to  guess  it 
immediately,  and  he  said  : 


SUMMIT-GAZING,  117 

"  You  arc  as  smart  as  a  little  Yankee  !  " 

"  I  am  one,"  I  answered. 

He  had  supposed  at  first  that  we  were  his  own 
countrymen,  but  nevertheless  we  were  mutually  pleased 
with  this  opportunity  of  using  our  mother-tongue. 

That  night  Uncle  and  I  took  a  walk  through  the  city 
of  Zurich.  The  banks  of  the  river  on  which  it  is  situ- 
ated are  very  steep,  and  the  city  is  built  right  up  house 
above  house,  so  that  from  the  river  we  could  count 
every  building  on  the  hill.  We  were  walking  along  a 
broad  level  street,  that  was  close  to  the  water,  when  I 
saw  a  pair  of  public  stairs  leading  up  between  two 
stores,  and  proposed  that  we  should  find  out  where 
they  went.  Qn  reaching  the  top,  we  were  on  what 
would  be,  in  any  ordinary  town,  the  roofs  of  the  houses, 
but  in  this  case  it  was  the  back  yard  or  court  of  a  great 
church  that  towered  up  before  us.  We  wandered 
around,  and  down  several  pairs  of  stairs,  expecting  to 
find  our  way  to  the  river  again,  but  they  all  ended  ab- 
ruptly at  private  doors,  until  at  last  we  found  ourselves 
on  the  street  in  front  of  the  great  church ;  we  followed 
its  winding  course  down  the  hill,  between  tall  houses, 
where  each  story  projected  farther  out,  until  they 
almost  met  overhead.  It  brought  us  finally  to  a  very 
wide  bridge,  lined  on  both  sides  with  small  stands  of 
fruit  and  nicknacks.  When  we  were  half-way  across, 
we  noticed  that  the  lights  reflected  from  the  city  made 
the  river  so  bright  that  we  could  follow  its  course  for 
some  distance  among  the  hills.  Looking  in  the  other 
direction,  the  rippling  reflection  widened  out  into  the 
lake,  which  was  dotted  with  the  colored  lights  of  the 
little  steamers,  and  just  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  was 
a  small  island  with  a  grove  of  trees,  connected  with  the 
gardens  of  the  hotel  by  a  narrow  bridge.  We  had 
visited  it  during  our  afternoon  ramble,  and  it  was  also 


I 


: 


Ii8 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


the  place  from  which  we  embarked  when  we  left  the 
city. 

I  remember  what  a  dispute  arose  among  the  pas- 
sengers the  day  we  went  down  Lake  Zurich.  There 
were  mountains  all  around  us,  but  from  the  end  of  the 
lake  towards  which  we  were  steering,  rose  quite  a  high 
range.  Over  their  summits  the  clouds  extended  up 
some  distance,  and,  strange  to  say,  a  succession  of  peaks 
were  to  be  seen  above  the  clouds,  suspended,  as  it  were, 
in  the  sky,  and  having  no  connection  with  the  peaks 
below,  except  a  close  resemblance  in  form.  Their  out- 
lines were  distinctly  marked  against  the  clear  blue  sky, 
but  they  had  a  strange,  chalky,  light  appearance,  as  if 
they  could  be  blown  away  by  a  breath.  Some  of  the 
passengers  said  they  were  merely  unusual  forms  taken 
by  the  clouds ;  others  insisted  that  they  were  a  reflection 
of  the  peaks  below — a  species  of  Fata  Morgana.  A  few 
old  Alp  frequenters,  among  them  our  friend  of  the 
gravel  acquaintance,  ventured  to  assert  that  they  were 
real  mountain-^,  but  their  idea  was  laughed  down  as 
ridiculous.  While  the  dispute  was  hottest,  the  wind, 
by  a  strange  freak,  dispersed  the  clouds  almost  in  an 
instani:,  and  we  had  before  us  one  of  the  mighty  ranges 
of  Switzerland,  beside  which  our  mountains  of  the  lake 
shore  were  mere  hillocks. 


XV. 

SWISS    VALLEYS. 

EXTHUSIASTIC  TOURISTS— RAGATZ  AND  CHUR— A  KRENCH  LANDLADY, 
SWISS  MAID,  AND  GliRMAN  DOCTOR — LUCERNK — MY  WINDOW — THE 
KIGI — THE  LAKE — WILLIAM  TELL  —  WASHERWOMKN  OF  GENEVA  — 
MOUNT  BLANC. 


P'rom  the  foot  of  Lake  Zurich  we  took  the  railroad 
<:arriages  for  Ragatz  and  Chur.  This  journey  is 
among  my  most  vivid  recollections  of  Switzerland,  for 
we  were  following  the  courses  of  the  valleys  and  streams 
through  that  wonderful  range  of  mountains  that  we 
had  seen  from  the  lake.  We  twisted  ourselves  into 
every  possible  position  to  see  the  snow-capped  sum- 
mits directly  above  us,  and  our  fellow-travellers — Eng- 
lish, French,  and  German — became  so  excited  over  the 
scenery,  that  they  would  call  out  to  each  other,  for 
though  the  language  might  not  be  understood,  the 
gestures  were  unmistakable,  and  they  would  rush  from 
one  side  of  the  car  to  the  other,  even  dropping  down 
on  the  floor  to  get  a  sight  from  the  car-windows  of  the 
very  tip-top  of  the  mountains.  The  enthusiasm  seemed 
contagious ;  there  were  haughty  Englishmen,  stolid  Ger- 
mans, fashionable  young  ladies,  and  confirmed  dandies 
equally  forgetful  of  appearances.  Indeed,  as  we  passed 
peak  after  peak,  now  clustered  together,  now  opening 
and  showing  beautiful  valleys  between,  or  dark,  shaded 
chasms,  the  jagged  rocks  taking  new  shapes  and  hues 
every  instant,  it  was  like  watching  a  grand  and  ever- 
varying  kaleidoscope. 

(119) 


120 


AROUXD   nil:    IVORf.D. 


11 


\\ 

U 

(■■5 

! 


We  travelled  for  some  time  along  the  shores  of  Lake 
Wallenstatt.  It  lies  between  perpendicular  walls  of 
rock  rising  out  of  the  water  from  two  to  three  thousand 
feet,  and  here  and  there,  where  the  land  slopes  a  little 
at  the  top,  one  can  see  the  villages,  and  the  cattle  graz- 
ing far  above. 

A  cold  caught  from  the  mountain  breezes  on  the 
lakes,  and  our  constant  summit-gazing,  had  given  me  a 
horrid  "  stiff  neck,"  so  I  had  to  let  Uncle  go  without 
me  to  see  the  remarkable  gorge  at  Ragatz,  and  by  the 
time  we  reached  Chur  (that  qu  r  little  town,  nestled 
in  the  bottom  of  a  great  moimtain  bowl,  with  a  few 
cracks  in  it  for  people  to  come  through),  I  was  in  a 
condition  to  be  laid  up  for  four  or  five  days.  We  just 
happened  on  the  cosiest  inn  we  had  found  anywhere, 
and  the  most  kind-hearted  and  talkative  landlady  you 
can  imagine. 

She  rubbed  me,  steamed  me,  dosed  me,  and  talked 
French  so  fast  that  I  could  not  begin  to  keep  pace  with 
her.  She  gave  a  long  account  of  a  trip  ,-^he  had  taken 
through  Russia,  interspersed  with  pious  exclamations ; 
and  told  how  she  had  visited  her  daughter  in  Africa, 
who,  by  the  way,  spoke  English,  and  had  left  "  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  "  in  the  house.  The  landlady's  attempts 
to  pronounce  the  title  of  this  book  were  very  funny, 
but  I  was  delighted  to  find  something  I  could  read. 
The  chambermaid  who  waited  on  me  was  a  Swiss  girl. 
Our  ideas  were  communicated  by  means  of  four  words, 
and  such  gestures  as  could  be  made  with  a  stiff  neck. 
"  Monsieur  "  was  understood  to  mean  my  Uncle,  "  Mad- 
ame," the  landlady,  "  Fraulein  "  was  either  the  cham- 
bermaid or  myself,  and  "  Yah  !  "  had  to  do  for  every- 
thing else  in  creation.  I  v/as  attended  by  an  old  doctor 
whose  French  was  about  on  a  par  with  mine,  and  in 
spite  of  his  German  and  my  American  accent,  we  man- 


;lc 


Is. 


The  Spi.ur.RM  Pass, 


Face  p.  120. 


i 


Siy/SS  yALLEYS. 


121 


aged  to  talk  together  better  than  any  of  the  others. 
Such  a  sickness  was  very  funny,  but  t  should  not  like 
to  go  through  it  again. 

We  had  started  for  Chur  with  the  intention  of  cross- 
ing the  Splugcn  Pass,  but  we  retraced  our  steps  and 
went  to  Lucerne  instead. 

One  of  the  first  things  we  did  here  was  to  walk 
through  the  old  covered  bridge,  with  the  quaint  pictures 
of  the  "Dance  of  Death."  How  prettily  Longfellow 
describes  it  in  the  "  Golden  Legend,"  in  a  conversation 
between  Prince  Henry  and  Elsie,  as  they  ride  through  it ! 

Lucerne  is  a  perfect  gem  for  an  artist ;  just  such 
crooked  streets  and  irregular  houses,  with  little  turrets 
and  lattices,  as  they  love  to  paint.  There  is  also  a  more 
modern  part  of  the  town,  with  magnificent  hotels — finer 
than  any  I  had  seen  since  I  left  the  United  States — 
and  also  handsome  stores,  in  whose  windows  were  ex- 
hibited many  beautiful  carvings  in  wood.  One  subject 
was  copied  over  and  over  again,  representing  a  grief- 
stricken  lion  lying  with  one  paw  resting  on  a  shield, 
other  weapons  being  scattered  around.  We  were  told 
that  they  were  taken  from  the  monument  erected  in 
honor  of  the  Swiss  Guards  who  were  shot  down  while 
defending  Marie  Antoinette  in  the  Tuilleries.  With 
the  aid  of  a  small  boy  we  found  the  original  in  some 
public  gardens.  It  is  cut  in  the  centre  of  a  solid  sheet 
of  rock  that  forms  one  bank  of  a  pond  or  fountain,  and 
must  be  over  fifty  feet  high.  It  is  beautifully  executed, 
though  one  can  not  but  wonder  how  the  sculptor  ever 
managed  to  carve  it  in  such  a  place. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hotel  we  were  hunting  for 
guide-books  and  maps,  when  we  happened  to  see  a 
translation  of  Schiller's  "  Tragedy  of  William  Tell."  It 
was  just  what  we  wanted,  and  made  the  trip  on  the 
Lake  of  Lucerne  much  more  interesting. 


122 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


After  our  experiences  at  Chur,  Uncle  had  a  mortal 
dread  of  stiff  necks,  a^d  would  not  allow  me  to  ascend 
the  Rigi  with  him.  So  after  taking  an  early  breakfast 
with  mc  at  our  Lucerne  hotel,  he  started  off  alone,  and 
left  me  standing  at  the  dining-room  window.  The 
Rigi  was  in  full  view,  and,  like  all  "  forbidden  fruit," 
looked  very  inviting.  The  rosy  tints  of  the  rising  sun 
were  skipping  from  point  to  point,  gradually  lighting 
up  the  whole  mountain.  I  watched  them  till  they 
whitened  into  broad  daylight,  then  went  to  my  room, 
and  with  a  Tauchnitz  volume  for  company,  sat  down 
by  the  window.  Whenever  I  raised  my  eyes  from  the 
book  they  rested  on  a  bewitching  scene :  the  pictur- 
esque streets  of  the  town,  the  old  bridge,  and  the  lake 
twining  herself  around  and  seeming  to  clasp  the  bases 
of  the  mountains,  whose  glaciers  glisten  in  the  sun, 
while 

"  Overhead, 

Shaking-  his  cloudy  tresses  loose  in  air, 

Rises  Pilatus,  with  his  windy  pines." 


Towards  evening  I  began  to  feel  lonely,  and  the  sud- 
den recollection  that  this  was  my  fifteenth  birthday 
only  increased  my  despondency.  "  What  a  forlorn 
birthday,"  I  thought;  **  I  wonder  if  anybody  at  home 
remembers  it ! — I  suppose  not,  though,  since  I  nearly 
forgot  it  myself."  After  a  solitary  supper,  I  came  back 
to  my  window.  The  fa!l  moon  had  risen,  and  the  scene 
was  more  beautiful  than  ever.  This  fact,  in  connection 
with  my  melancholy  and  sentimental  mood,  caused  mc 
to  pencil  the  following  lines,  which,  in  a  great  flurry,  I 
thrust  into  my  table-drawer  as  I  heard  Uncle'?  ringing 
rap  at  the  door.  Now,  however  (to  introduce  them  in 
approved  style),  "  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  many 
friends,  I  present  them  to  the  public :  " 


Siy/SS  yALLEYS. 

O  moon  !  triumphant,  lovely,  bright, 
Thou,  maiden  ruler  of  the  night, 
Art  gentler  than  the  king  of  clay  ; 
O'er  toil  he  reigns — o'er  rest  thy  sway. 

O  lofty  mountains !  grand  and  high, 
Your  snow-peaks  tow'ring  towards  ti.e  sky- 
Submissive  at  your  que''    you  gaze, 
Wrapt  in  a  soft  and  si)  ■      maze. 

O  lovely  lake  !  deep,  areamy,  blue, — 
Fear  not,  for  thou  hast  sentinels  who, 
Like  brothers,  guard  thy  still  retreat 
Whilst  thou  art  sleeping  at  their  feet. 

The  moon,  now  glancing  at  thy  rest, 
Finds  her  own  beauties  on  thy  breast. 
This  must  be  dreamkrid.     'Tis  not  real, 
'Tis  but  some  fanciful  ideal. 

But  no  !  God  made  yon  moonlit  heights 
To  tempt  our  souls  to  higher  flights, — 
Borne  up  frDM  earth  on  fancy's  wings, 
To  contemplate  sublimer  things. 


123 


Uncle  was  very  tired  after  his  expedition  to  the  Rigi, 
but  he  gave  me  a  funny  account  of  his  sensations  on 
being  jogged  up  the  mountain  in  a  small  car,  with  the 
engine  pushing  from  behind.  Besides  the  t\\o  ordinary 
rails  there  was  a  cog-wheel  under  the  centre  of  the  car, 
so  that,  as  he  expressed  it,  they  were  boosted  up  by  a 
succession  of  bunks.  Of  course  from  the  summit  he 
had  a  fine  view  of  the  lake  and  the  glaciers. 

He  wanted  to  meet  an  early  boat  in  order  to  rcnch 
Lucerne  before  dark,  and  determined  not  to  wait  for 
the  steam-car,  but  to  walk  down.  He  looked  at  his  map 
to  find  a  short  route,  but  as  mountains  and  mcps  do  not 
often  agree,  he  found  he  had  chosen  one  of  the  longest. 
The  Rigi  is  covered  with  pebbles,  and  very  steep,  so  it 


124 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


\  it, 


was  down,  down,  down,  and  slip,  slip,  slip,  until  he  had 
worn  holes  through  the  toes  of  his  boots,  and  was  stiff 
all  over  the  next  morning.  He  said  he  envied  a  young 
man  who  passed  him  on  the  way  with  a  long  Alpine 
staff,  with  which  he  tripped  down  and  swung  himself 
over  the  hollows  and  ruts  with  the  greatest  ease. 

We  had  a  delightfal  trip  on  Lucerne,  the  lovely 
"  Lake  of  the  Four  Forest  Cantons."  The  main  part 
of  it  is  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and  when  we  reached  a 
certain  poini.  we  saw  four  arms  branching  off  in  differ- 
ent directions,  and  at  the  extreme  end  of  each  was  a 
town.  Behind  us  was  the  city  of  Lu«..'rne,  which  we 
had  just  left ;  to  the  east  could  be  seen  Klissnacht, 
where  Tell  killed  the  tyrant,  Gessler ;  to  the  west,  the 
end  of  the  arm  is  tipped  with  Alonach,  a  starting-point 
for  crossing  one  of  the  passes  of  the  mountains ;  and 
we  were  steaming  on  towards  Brunnen,  a  little  town 
that  is  quaintest  of  the  quaint. 

At  this  last  point  the  lake  gives  another  very  unex- 
pected twist  off  among  the  mountains,  rather  spoiling 
the  symmetry  of  the  cross.  The  spot  is  noted  as  being 
the  place  where  William  Tell  crossed  during  a  terrible 
storm,  when  no  other  would  venture  in  a  boat,  in  order 
to  save  a  co-patriot  from  the  pursuit  of  his  enemies. 
The  shore  here  juts  boldly  into  the  lake,  and  standing 
out  from  the  point  is  a  solitary  rock,  having  naturally  a 
shape  resembling  a  monument,  and  by  looking  through 
an  opera-glass,  the  name  "  Schiller  "  can  be  read  on  it. 
What  a  beautiful  idea! — that  his  monument  should 
stand  in  the  very  lake  whose  legends  he  has  immortal- 
ized. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  tell  of  all  the  places 
around  Lake  Lucerne  which  are  connected  with  the 
life  and  achievements  of  the  great  Swiss  hero.  At  Alt- 
dorf,   the   southern   extremity  of    the   lake,  a   statue 


i 

1 

1 

! 
1 

^ 

i 

■  ."t. 

SIVISS  VALLEYS. 


125 


marks  the  precise  spot  where  Tell  stood  when  he  split 
the  apple.  It  represents  him  at  the  moment  after  he 
had  made  the  famous  shot — in  the  mountaineer's  cos- 
tume— with  his  cross-bow  falling  from  his  hand  and  his 
face  raised  to  Heaven,  as  if  with  a  fervent  *'  Thank 
God!"  he  had  not  killed  his  boy.  A  fountain  now 
plays  upon  the  spot  where  stood  the  tree,  the  apple, 
and  the  boy. 

By  following  up  the  valley  from  Altdorf  we  arrive  at 
Tell's  birthplace,  and  were  we  to  continue  still  further 
we  would  reach  the  great  St.  Gothard  Pass  across  the 
Alps. 

From  Lake  Lucerne  we  went  by  way  of  Bern  to  the 
beautiful  city  of  Geneva.  Here,  among  other  things, 
we  were  interested  in  the  sheds  along  the  banks  of  the 
river,  under  which  merry-looking  washerwomen  were 
dashing  the  clothes  energetically  into  the  water  and 
slapping  them  on  boards,  while  they  chattered  like 
magpies.  From  one  of  the  large  bridges  that  cross 
the  Rhone  here,  we  took  a  little  steamer  to  go  up 
Lake  Geneva,  from  which  we  had  glimpses  of  Mount 
Blanc. 


!•!( 

r 


i:!' 


XVI. 


UPS    AND    DOWNS. 


"LETTERS  FROM  ABROAD  " — AN  A  )V- ENTURE— MARTIONY  ;  ITS  STRANGE 
MUSIC  —  VALLEY  OV  THE  RHONE  — ACROSS  THE  SIMPLON  BY  MOON- 
LIGHT, DAYLIGHT,  AND  LIGHTNING — "  WHERE  '.HE  RIVER  RUNS  " — 
THE  GORGE — IN    SAKETY— THE  STORM   RAGES, 

Sometimes  after  a  day  of  travel  or  sight-seeing, 
when  I  would  sit  down  in  the  evening  to  write  home, 
and  scribble  away  till  my  candle  burned  out,  or  my 
fingers  were  stiff,  I  would  go  to  bed  and  dream  of  the 
Kenwood    ladies  who    spent    so  much  time  trying  to 

teach  me  the  art  of  letter-writing.     Madam  D or 

Madam  W would  rise  before  me  with  my  last  letter 

in  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  pointed  out,  one 
by  one,  blots,  scratches,  misspelled  words,  and,  oh  mis- 
ery !  she  would  occasionally  read  aloud  a  long,  compli- 
cated sentence  of  my  own  manufacture,  and  say,  with 
severe  brevity,  "Parse  that!"  In  the  midst  of  my 
consternation  she  would  vanish,  leaving  the  uncor- 
rected letter  to  be  sent  in  the  morning  mail.  Then  I 
thought  of  the  long  "  letters  from  abroad  "  that  I  used 
to  write  at  school  for  compositions,  in  which  the  inci- 
dents and  descriptions  were  entirely  imaginary.  Why, 
I  remember  when,  on  tv/o  or  three  pa^  "s  of  foolscap,  I 
gave  an  account  of  a  trip  through  England,  Norway 
ami  Sweden,  Russia,  Italy,  and  France,  ending  with 
the  safe  arrival  of  the  travellers  in  America;  and 
strange  as  it  may  now  seem,  I  thought  that  I  had 
(126; 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


127 


given  quite  a  description  of  each  country'.  In  writing 
real  letters  from  abroad,  however,  the  difficulty  is  that 
we  are  constantly  seeing  new  wonders  and  beauties, 
and  meeting  at  every  step  with  ridiculous  or  pleasing 
incidents,  so  that  the  mind  becomes  bewildered  with 
the  variety,  and  our  thoughts  fly  too  rapidly  from  one 
subject  to  another  in  our  efforts  to  describe  everything. 
But  what  a  blessing  it  is  to  the  reader  that  we  can  not 
do  so ! 

For  instance,  I  would  like  to  say  more  about  Mount 
Blanc,  the  strange  colors  that  dye  Lake  Geneva  and 
the  surrounding  mountains  towards  evening,  and  the 
people  we  saw  on  the  steamer,  but  my  thoughts  are 
galloping  on  to  Vevey  and  I  must  follow  thcin  there. 

Our  hotel  was  on  the  lake  shore.  Up  the  hilln  as  far 
as  the  ground  slopes  gently  enough  to  permit,  vineyards 
cover  every  foot  of  available  land.  Uncle  and  I  took 
a  stroll  up  the  mountain  a  short  distance,  hoping  to 
obtain  a  fine  view  of  the  lake.  We  soon  found  our- 
selves right  among  the  grapes,  following  a  public  road 
that  wound  through  the  vineyards,  with  high  walls  on 
either  side.  Here  and  there  other  roads,  also  walled 
in,  branched  off  in  different  dn^ections.  After  walking 
some  distance,  we  saw,  on  an  eminence  not  far  above 
us,  a  little  tower  thc.t  looked  veri'  inv'ting  and  prom- 
ised a  fine  prospect.  We  turned  off  very  confidently 
into  one  of  the  side  roads.  As  we  proceeded  the  walls 
became  lower  and  lower,  and  at  length  ceased  alto- 
gether, so  that  we  found  ourselves  following  a  narrow 
foot-path  among  the  vines,  scrambling  over  low  walls 
and  through  cobwebs,  until  we  looked  qui  ..  ic  and 
^sty.  When  we  as^  ended  a  few  stoae  aaeps  aiid 
readnei  ttfee  tower,  wc  saw  a  pcndexnan  sittBug  there 
witl}  a  cigar  in  his  mouth  ajid  a  gun  in  his  hand,  appar- 
ently enjoying  the  landscape   Unc'e  aconted  him  with  a 


i 


128 


AROUXD   THE   WORLD. 


"Bon  jour,  monsieur." 

He  looked  surprised,  but  raised  his  hat  politely,  and 
we  expressed  our  admiration  of  the  beautiful  scene  be- 
fore us.  Soon  the  gentleman  informed  us,  with  many- 
polite  expressions  and  bows,  that  he  was  proprietor  of 
the  vineyard  and  tower,  and  that  we  had  passed  "  un 
grand  danger,"  for  the  men  whom  he  had  appointed  to 
guard  the  vines,  were  "  trtis-mechant,"  and  arrested  any 
one  found  straggling  among  them.  (How  glad  I  was 
that  I  had  resisted  the  temptation  to  pluck  some  grapes 
as  I  was  coming  up!)  "  O,"  said  Uncle,  jokingly,  "in 
our  country  a  person  can  go  anywhere,  just  so  that  he 
does  not  look  in  the  windows ! " 

Oiir  Swiss  proprietor  seemed,  for  the  moment,  to  be 
dumbfounded  by  this  statement,  but  presently  he  said, 
brightening  with  the  idea,  "  Ah  !  c'est  rAmerique,  n'est 
ce  pas?  "  "  It  is  a  country  I  have  often  wished  to  know 
more  about." 

Here  was  a  subject  of  mutual  interest,  and  we  soon 
became  ver}-  good  friends.  During  the  course  of  the 
conversation,  he  showed  us  how  the  tower  was  built  of 
(iiligh  stones,  with  a  little  stairway  mounting  to  the 
roof,  \\\\\\  wlniii  he  kept  his  gun,  which  he  used  to 
protect  the  grapes  from  the  flocks  of  birds  that  would 
otlltMwlBc  destfoy  them  just  as  they  begin  to  ripen,  He 
pointed  out  Chlllon,  uild  other  places  of  interest  on 
the  lake,  and  fiucdly  he  I  (/Id  MS  how  to  rnar|i  the  public 
fq.'ul  by  going  through  his  back  yurd-  The//  we  le/t 
him,  as  we  had  foniid  him,  seated  In  ll/u  lltllo  fowef, 
and  wondering,  perhaps,  at  the  impudence  of  tiiu 
Yankees ! 

The  next  day  we  went  on  th<f  lfji|fe  as  far  as  HonvRret, 
passing  close  by  the  Castle  of  Chillon.  A  f<.'W  hoUffi'  ride 
in  the  cars,  from  which  we  had  a  full  view  of  tlie  ijttit  du 
Midi,  then  brought  us  to  Martigny,  a  little  town  among 


OPS  AND  DOWNS. 


129 


the  highest  of  the  Alps,  at  an  opening  where  four  beau- 
tiful valleys  meet.  Towards  dusk,  as  I  was  seated  by 
my  window  in  the  tidy,  old-fashioned  country  inn,  1 
heard  a  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle  of  bells,  seeming  to  come 
from  every  possible  direction,  and  filli4ig  the  whole  air 
with  the  sound.  I  jumped  up,  listened  for  a  moment, 
and  then  ran  down  to  the  door  of  the  inn. 

"  Come,  Uncle,"  I  called  out  as  I  passed  his  room, 
"  let's  see  what  it  is;  quick!"  For  the  sound  was  so 
aerial,  and  scattered,  that  I  feared  every  minute  it 
would  vanish.  But  no !  it  was  imperceptibly  coming 
nearer,  and  growing  more  compact  and  distingaishable, 
as  we  stood  out  in  the  road  listening  attentively. 

"  Why,  Nell,  it  is  the  cows  coming  down  from  the 
mountains,"  said  Uncle. 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  to  say  that  cow-bells  can 
make  music  like  this,"  for  I  was  quite  disappointed. 
"But,  at  any  rate,"  I  added,  "they  are  not  at  nil  like 
those  old.  creaking,  clanking  concerns  that  they  use  at 
homo.     I  wish  Ihtiy  would  import  some  of  these." 

"  Sec  !  "  said  he,  "  they  are  beginning  to  enter  the  vil- 
lage. You  )<now  tjiese  Swiss  jlel'ds  often  have  a  leadef, 
one  of  the  cows  who  is  considered  to  be  the  most  beul|- 
tiful,  the  best  trained,  and  who  wears  the  sweetest- 
sounding  bell." 

"  II  there  is  one  here,  we  must  find  her  out  by  that 
last  sign  then,  fot  It  Is  beginning  to  get  dark.  Listen, 
here  she  comes;  and  now  1  can  see  her.  Yes,  I  think 
it  must  be  the  leader.  How  proudly  she  steps  along, 
as  if  she  were  queen  of  all  creation  I  And  look!  there 
U  llM  end  to   the  herd   tjint   Is  gathering  in   from  all 

dlrcLtioiiB." 

'Tome,"  said  Uncle,  "we  had  better  g.j  Iff," 
All  during;  supper  the  cowh  |<H|;t  \,nmnvj[,,  coming, 
m<^  it  VVdi  %%  least  an  hour  |jcfr7ro  tl|»  i\\M\{\g  umlB 


130 


AROUND   THE   WOKT.D. 


{:. 


died  away.  Then  all  was  quiet  until  the  next  morninj^, 
when  I  awoke  to  hear  the  same  melodious  sounds  ring- 
ing through  the  valley,  as  the  herd  started  off  once 
more  for  the  mountains. 


Cascadk  —  Ai.rs. 


We  followed  up  the  valley  of  the  Rhone  as  far  as 
Brieg,  most  of  the  way  by  diligence.  The  scenery  be- 
came more  and  more  beautiful  as  we  proceeded,  watch- 
ing for   every  opportunity  to  see  the   great   glaciers 


II 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


131 


lying  between  the  peaks  and  a[ipcaring  at  every  open- 
ing. 

We  crossed  into  Italy  by  the  Simplon  Pass,  starting 
from  Brieg  at  three  o'clock  in  the  mut  ning  with  a  bright 
moonHght.  Although  it  was  damp  and  uncomfortable 
at  that  early  hour,  the  ride  was  enchantmg,  for  the 
moonbeams  cast  a  witchery  over  the  dark,  indistinct 
outlines  of  the  mountains  with  snow-white  peaks  ap- 
pearing hero  and  there,  while  a  deep  and  gloomy  chasm 
lay  beneath  us.  Slowly  the  horses  drew  the  heavy, 
lumbering  coach  up  the  zigzag,  though  comparatively 
smooth,  road;  siinetimcs  going  a  long  distance  in  a 
straight  line,  and  then  turning  back  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, but  ever  higher  and  higher,  ihe  scene  always 
changing.  Sometimes  hemmed  in  by  mountains,  the 
snow  lying  directly  around  us;  then  sudden  glimpses 
of  the  distant  glaciers,  or  the  green  valley  bcncc'.ih  us, 
with  the  white  cottages  and  tiled  roofs  of  the  village  we 
had  left.  It  was  broad  daylight  long  before  we  reached 
the  summit,  where  there  is  a  Hospice,  kept  by  the 
monks  of  Saint  Bernard.  But  we  dared  not  stop,  for  a 
storm  was  brewing ;  already  we  were  enveloped  in  a 
dense  cloud ;  and  before  we  had  descended  far  on  the 
Itali.m  side,  it  began  to  rain  heavily. 

As  the  mountain-torrents,  rushing  down,  would  wash 
away  the  road,  tunnels  are  built  under  it  for  them  to 
dash  through,  or  where  this  can  not  be  done,  the  road 
is  tunnelled  through  the  rock,  leaving  the  stream,  or  the 
avalanche,  as  it  may  be,  to  rush  over  it.  Thus  we  some- 
times heard  the  water  roaring  under  our  feet,  then  again 
it  was  splashing  directly  over  our  heads.  Everything 
connected  with  this  wonderful  road  is  constructed  with  a 
view  to  its  durability.  The  telegraph  wire  is  supported 
for  miles  by  tall,  tapering  blocks  of  gray  granite,  hewn 
with  a  care  and  precision  that  make  them  quite  orna* 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.0 


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us 


!  L25  M  1.4 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


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132 


AROUISTD   THE   WORLD. 


mental.  For  the  convcjiiences  and  comparative  safety 
of  this  route  across  the  Alps,  we  are,  I  believe,  indebted 
to  the  energy  of  the  great  Napoleon.  We  may  well 
conclude,  however,  that  his  object  in  constructing  the 
road  was  not  .iltogcther  the  benefit  of  humanity,  for 
it  is  said  that  when  the  engineer  went  to  him  to  report 
the  progress  of  the  work,  his  first  question  would  be, 
"  Le  canon  quand  pourra-t-il  passer  au  Simplon  ?  " 

One  of  the  large  Italian  rivers  flowing  into  Lago 
Maggiore,  begins  on  the  southern  side  of  the  mountain 
in  a  m^ere  tiny  brooklet.  We  followed  its  course  down 
through  all  its  windings,  watching  it  gradually  increase 
as  countless  n»oi  itain  streams  rushed  dov/n  to  meet  it ; 
and  then  saw  it,  burdened  with  the  waters  of  all  its 
tributaries,  wander  restlessly  and  aimlessly  through  the 
valley  and  the  plain,  till  finally  it  reached  the  placid 
bosom  of  the  lake,  and  was  at  rest.  I  never  before 
studied  so  interesting  a  geography  lesson  ! 

For  some  distance  the  river  and  the  road  run  side  by 
side  through  a  terrible  gorge,  grand  and  wild,  dark  and 
narrow.  It  is  only  by  putting  our  heads  out  of  the 
diligence-windows,  and  looking  straight  up,  that  we  can 
sec  a  slender  slip  of  sky  between  the  perpendicular 
walls  of  rock.  Sometimes  the  r.ver,  out  of  patience 
with  his  bed-fellow,  the  road,  takes  boisterous  possession 
of  the  whole  gorge,  leaving  his  peaceable  companion  to 
leap  over  him  on  bridges,  or  lie  in  dark,  dripping  tun- 
nels, until  the  wild,  willful  stream  is  pleased  to  make 
room  for  the  civilized  road,  and  then  the  one  rippling 
and  smiling,  the  other  staid  and  expressionless,  they 
run  on,  once  more,  side  by  side. 

In  some  places  there  were  masses  of  snow,  that  had 
evidently  been  avalanches,  tumbled  ever  the  precipice 
and  blocking  the  gorge,  until  the  resistless  torrent  had 
worn  its  way  through,  thus  causing  the  snow  to  form  a 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


133 


natural  bridge  across  the  ravine.  At  intervals  we  saw 
where  forts  and  batteries  had  been  cut  in  the  rock  about 
midway  between  top  and  bottom.  Ugh  !  the  very- 
thought  of  a  battle  in  such  a  place  is  horrible.  Yet,  as 
we  ride  rapidly  over  the  smooth  road,  v,e  arc  told  that 
when  there  was  scarce  a  foot-path  here  the  mighty 
Hannibal  and  his  army  fought  their  way,  step  by  step, 
through  this  awful  pass. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  beautiful  tor- 
rents and  cascades  thai:  come  roaring  down  at  every 
turn.  Their  spray  constantly  spatters  the  windows  of 
the  diliijence.  So  does  the  rain-storm  that  has  over- 
taken  us  near  the  summit,  and  which  is  now  increasing 
every  moment  in  fury. 

We  soon  pass  a  stone  column  marking  the  boundary 
line  of  Switzerland.  Hurrah!  we  are  in  Italy.  The 
shout  has  scarce  died  away  when  the  horses  are  reined 
in  at  the  Custom-house.  What !  must  our  baggage  be 
examined  here  in  the  midst  of  the  ravine,  in  the  fury  of 
the  stormx  ?  There  is  no  help  for  it,  and  we  are  all  kept 
waiting  while  one  man  packs  up  a  host  of  little  boxes 
which  the  Custom-house  officer  has  tumbled  out  of  his 
trunk.  The  driver  gets  out  of  all  patience,  and  declares 
that  the  bridges  will  be  washed  away  before  wc  get  down 
the  mountain. 

We  thank  God  that  they  are  not,  but  before  we 
reach  Baveno  we  are  detained  an  hour  while  a  tree 
that  has  been  blov/n  down  across  the  road  is  chopped 
away.  It  is  pitch  dark  and  we  sit  silently  crowded 
together  in  the  motionless  diligence.  Suddenly,  in  a 
ghastly  flash  of  flickering,  white  lightning  I  see  the  pale 
face  and  three-cornered  hat  of  the  old  Cur6  who  sits 
opposite  me,  the  frightened  face  of  the  bride  very  close 
to  the  anxious  face  of  the  groom  who  sits  in  the  far 
corner,  and  just  as  I  look  up  to  Uncle,  who  is  next  to 


134 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


me,  all  is  dark  again.  As  I  sit  peering  out  at  the  win- 
dow I  discover,  by  the  light  of  a  great  many  flashes  in 
quick  succession,  that  we  are  right  on  the  lake-shore. 
1  see  a  tall,  scraggly  tree  standing  out  against  the  water, 
and  even  the  houses  and  towers  of  a  village  on  the 
opposite  shore.  I  would  look  more,  but  Uncle  puts  his 
hand  over  my  eyes,  saying,  *'  You  will  ruin  them, 
child." 

We  reach  Baveno  at  eight  o'clock  at  night,  stiff  and 
sleepy,  after  a  ride  of  fifteen  hours.  The  storm  howls 
all  night  and  all  the  next  day  and  the  day  after,  and 
then  all  the  passes  of  the  Alps  are  snowed  up.  Verily, 
we  crossed  at  the  "  eleventh  hour." 


XVII. 
MILAN    AND   VERONA. 

SOJOURNERS  AT  I.AGO  MAGGIORE  —  FUN  OVER  TURTLES  —  MILAN,  A 
spider's  WEI! — CATHEDRAL  CONTRASTS— TOMB  OF  SAINT  CHARLES 
BORROMEO— GALLERIA  VITTORIO  EMMANUELE— A  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH 
OF  THE  EARLY  TIMES — ST.  AMIiROSE  AND  THEODOSIUS — REVERSI  D — 
DA  VlNCl's  MASTERPIECE  —  OTHER  PICTURES  —  VERONA  —  MORE 
CHURCHES — SCALIGERS — THE  AMPHITHEATaK. 


i 


We  were  charmed  with  La-^o  Maggiorc.  Little 
Isola  Bella,  belonging  to  the  great  Borromeo  family,  is 
as  beautiful  and  strange  as  a  fairy  isle.  Besides  a  few 
fishermen's  huts,  it  contains  an  immense  palace,  whose 
massive  stone  steps,  leading  to  the  entrance,  rise  out  of 
the  lake,  and  under  which  is  a  pebble  grotto  with  Gre- 
cian statuary  disposed  here  and  there  in  appropriate 
nooks.  But  the  principal  attraction  of  the  island  is  its 
tier  of  airy,  tropical  gardens  suspended  one  above 
another  on  rustic  arches,  which  are  adorned  with  co- 
lossal statues  and  full  of  delightful,  shady  retreats.  In 
one  of  these  we  encountered  some  of  the  Borromeo 
family,  as  we  were  informed  by  the  old  gardener  who 
accompanied  us.  Our  intrusion  being  accidental,  we 
bowed  and  passed  on.  After  this  we  met  the  children 
again  and  again,  running  through  the  arches  and  play- 
ing under  the  trees.  I  dare  say  that  if  we  had  visited 
this  island  three  centuries  ago,  we  should  have  seen  the 
little  St.  Charles  Borromeo  amusing  himself  in  the  same 
way  with  his  brother  and  sisters. 

The  hotel  at  Baveno  was  filled  with  the  pleasantest 

(135) 


136 


AROUiyO   THE   WORLO. 


kind  of  people;  a  jovial  old  I'Lnglish  judge  and  his 
handsome  lady,  with  kind-hearted,  motherly  ways ; 
Americans  vvhom  we  recognized  as  former  friends ;  the 
interesting  young  honeymoon  couple  from  Ireland  who 
hatl  crossed  the  Alps  with  us — not  Irish  as  we  Amer- 
icans are  so  apt  to  conceive  them— poor,  ignorant  emi- 
grants, subjects  for  most  of  the  newspaper  jokes — but 
belonging  to  the  real  Irish  gentry,  whom  I  remember 
as  some  of  the  most  cultured,  elegant,  and  genial  people 
we  met  anywhere  ;  then  there  was  a  very  pretty,  bright 
young  Scotch  girl,  who  asked  me  innocently  if  New 
York  s^as  not  on  the  Red  River,  and  if  I  had  often  seen 
people  scalped  in  America ;  but  the  most  entertaining 
character  of  all  was  an  eccentric  old  Englishman,  whose 
front  teeth  were  all  gone,  whose  pantaloons  always 
managed  to  hitch  above  his  gaiters  when  he  sat  down, 
who,  as  he  expressed  it,  possessed  **a  competency,  in 
fc'ct,  quite  a  competency,"  who  travelled  with  a  funny 
Irish  valet,  and  who,  to  crown  all,  indulged  in  a  remark- 
able propensity  for  buying  all  kinds  of  odd  trinkets. 

One  day  he  came  in  from  a  walk,  with  two  turtles 
which  he  had  bought  from  an  old  woman  by  the  road- 
side, and  he  was  showing  us  how  beautifully  they  were 
carved,  all  in  wooo. 

"  Look !  "  he  said  admiringly,  as  he  set  them  down 
on  the  piazza,  "  who  would  imagine  that  they  are 
not — ,"  he  stopped  short,  for  lo  and  behold !  his  sup- 
posed carvings  began  to  crawl,  O,  what  a  shout  of 
merry  laughter  rang  over  the  water,  as  he  stood  running 
his  hand  through  his  hair  till  it  stood  on  end,  and  glar- 
ing in  bewilderment  at  the  turtles,  who  were  rapidly 
making  for  the  grass-plot.  He  caught  them,  how- 
ever, and  kept  them,  consoling  himself,  perhaps,  with 
the  reflection  that  after  all  mere  blocks  of  carved 
wood  are  not  as  interesting  as  real  live  turtles.     V^s 


MILAN  AND   VERONA. 


m 


travelled  through  the  mountain  region  around  Lake 
Lugano  and  Lake  Como,  with  our  peculiar  friend  and 
his  peculiar  pets.  The  last  that  I  saw  of  him  was  at 
the  town  of  Como,  striding  off  for  the  cars,  followed  by 
his  grinning  valet,  and  holding  in  one  hand  an  umbrella 
and  in  the  other  a  cigar-box,  secured  by  a  shawl-strap, 
containing  the  animated  carvings  squirming  in  fresh 
grass. 

Our  travel,  ever  since  we  left  Munich,  had  been 
through  natural  scenery ;  so,  for  a  change,  we  were 
not  sorry  to  find  ourselves  in  one  of  the  largest  and 
wealthiest  cities  of  Italy — interesting  not  only  for  its 
antiquity,  but  as  being  the  capital  of  Lombardy  and 
the  centre  of  a  great  arch-diocese  that  extends  even 
into  Switzerland.  I  speak  of  Milan.  The  plan  of  this 
city  is  very  singular  and  convenient.  The  great  Cathe- 
dral is  the  exact  centre,  from  which  the  streets  branch 
off  on  every  side  towards  the  gates  of  the  city,  the  cross- 
streets  becoming  less  and  less  intricate  as  the  suburbs 
are  neared,  thus  giving  it  nearly  the  form  of  a  spider's 
web.  Our  hotel  was  near  the  centre,  so  we  always  walk- 
ed first  to  the  Piazza  di  Domo,  or  Cathedral  Square,  and 
then  shaped  our  course  to  whatever  part  of  the  city  we 
wished  to  visit.  Most  of  the  streets  are  narrow,  as  in 
so  many  of  these  foreign  cities.  They  are  paved  with 
small  round  stones,  having  a  strip  of  smooth  flagging 
about  a  foot  and  a  half  wide  close  to  the  houses  for 
people  to  walk  on,  and  two  strips  down  the  centre  of 
the  road  just  far  enough  apart  for  the  carriage- wheels 
to  roll  on.  There  are  no  curb-stones,  and  the  streets  all 
slope  towards  the  centre,  where  the  drains  are  placed. 

The  first  thing  to  be  seen  in  Milan,  is,  of  course,  the 
cathedral,  Vv'hich  I  found  by  frequent  visiting  im- 
proved upon  acquaintance.  I  learned  from  it,  that  ca- 
thedrals, as  well  as  individuals,  may  be  judged  unjust- 


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138 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


ly  from  outside  appearances;  that  a  giddy,  showy  ex- 
terior docs  not  always  indicate  want  of  depth  and 
meaning  within.  All  the  large  cathedrals  that  I  had 
yet  seen,  both  English  and  German,  had  loomed  up 
before  us  grand,  solemn,  and  majestic.  I  never  imag- 
ined that  it  could  be  otherwise.  But  when  I  first  saw 
Milan  Cathedral,  I  nearly  laughed  outright. 

"  Why,  Uncle  !  "  I  said,  "  it  is  like  a  great  toy.  But 
no ;  it  is  too  white  and  frosty  for  that,  and  looks  as  if 
it  might  melt  away — it  reminds  me  of  an  iceberg." 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  perceive,  my  dear,  that  you  have 
never  seen  an  iceberg.  I  hope,  for  your  enlightenment, 
that  we  shall  meet  one  on  our  home  voyage." 

"  So  do  I,  with  all  my  heart.  An  iceberg  and  a 
whale  !  How  I  watched  for  a  glimpse  of  either  of  them 
all  the  way  across  the  Atlantic !  But  truly,  Uncle, 
don't  you  think  that  this  cathedral  looks  like  a  cen- 
tre-ornament for  a  gigantic  cake?  For  instance,  a 
birthday-cake  for  one  of  those  genii  in  the  '  Arabian 
Nights?'" 

"  That  will  do  till  you  can  think  of  something  better. 
But  do  genii  have  birthdays?     I  ask  for  information." 

Seeing  that  Uncle  was  determined  to  make  fun  of 
my  similes,  I  dared  not  attempt  any  more,  but  began  to 
examine  the  great  cathedral  in  earnest.  The  whole 
structure  is  of  white  marble,  and  on  the  exterior  of  the 
building  alone,  there  are  over  three  thousand  statues, 
images  each  of  some  indiv^idual  saint,  martyr,  or  other 
great  personage,  and  all  by  celebrated  artists,  even 
Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  and  Canova.  Pinnacle  rises 
above  pinnacle,  and  buttress  succeeds  buttress — adorn- 
ed with  myriads  of  statues,  gurgoyles,  hideous  creatures 
spouting  water  from  their  mouths,  and  innumerable 
other  designs  in  which  every  flower  and  plant,  every 
leaf  and  vein,  is  as  minutely  and  delicately  carved  as  if 


Milan  Catitedral. 


Face 


p.  138. 


MILAN  AND   VERONA. 


»39 


intended  to  be  examined  with  a  microscope.  (This,  how- 
ever, wo  discovered  later,  when  we  ascended  to  the 
roof;  now  we  could  appreciate  the  general  effect.) 
Can  you  wonder  that  all  this  looks  like  fairy-work? 
Only  it  does  not  fade  away,  but  stands  before  us  as 
distinctly  as  ever  on  the  solid  foundation  on  which  il 
has  stood  for  centuries. 

On  entering  the  church  I  was  startled  by  the  con- 
trast. Everything  is  dark,  solemn,  impressive,  and 
silent.  The  rich  stained  glass  casts  a  mellow,  soft  light 
through  the  whole  place,  while  here  and  there  a  many- 
colored  sunbeam  piercing  the  gloom,  brings  out  the 
massive  columns  and  heavy  Gothic  arches;  and  at  the 
back  of  the  church,  far,  far  off  in  the  distance — as  it 
seems,  and  really  is — lights  are  seen  burning  before  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  and  the  tomb  of  Saint  Charles 
Borromeo. 

The  latter  is  directly  in  front  of  the  high  altar.  From 
the  church,  no  part  of  the  shrine  is  visible  except  the 
handsome  bronze  railing  and  magnificent  candlesticks, 
in  which  candles  are  continually  burning,  around  a 
closely->vired  opening  in  the  floor,  through  which  may 
be  dimly  seen  the  chapel  or  tomb  in  which  the  boay 
of  the  saint  is  preserved.  On  descending  into  the 
crypt  and  entering  this  little  chapel,  we  find  that  its 
walls  are  entirely  lined  with  silver,  exquisitely  worked 
into  representations  of  different  seer  es  in  the  saint's 
life,  personifications  of  his  special  virtues,  and  various 
appropriate  emblems.  The  body  is  preserved  in  a  case 
of  crj'-stal  and  silver,  enclosed  with  a  thick  outer  cover- 
ing, which  is  let  down  that  we  may  see  the  relics.  This 
great  bishop,  who,  during  his  lifetime,  so  despised 
worldly  grandeur,  so  loved  the  poor — as  we  are  told  by 
the  pictures  on  the  wall — is  seen  through  the  transpar- 
ent crystal,  lying  in  state,  and  clothed  in  richly  embroi- 


140 


AROUAn  THE   WORLD. 


dcrod,  jeweled  vestments  and  mitre.  In  fact,  I  never 
before  saw  so  much  splendor  in  so  small  a  space.  The 
body  is  covered,  so  to  speak,  with  a  mass  of  ^old,  silver, 
and  precious  stones,  gifts  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 
The  things  that  1  remember  most  distinctly,  are :  a 
cross  composed  of  a  dozen  or  more  emeralds  as  large  as 
good-sized  marbles,  an  offering  from  Maria  Theresa  ; 
a  beautiful  crown  of  jewels  from  a  French  king,  who 
had  obtained  some  great  favor  through  the  saint's  in- 
tercession ;  and  a  plain,  gold  cross  from  Cardinal  Wise- 
man. 

Leaving  the  damp  crypt,  we  ascended  once  more 
into  that  beautiful  interior  of  the  cathedral.  There 
was  such  a  calm,  holy,  soothing  presence  in  the  very 
atmosphere  of  the  place,  that  for  the  moment,  every 
vash,  every  feeling  seemed  gratified.  Oh  !  it  was  hard 
to  tear  oneself  away;  to  leave  what  was  almost  a  para- 
dise upon  earth  for  the  noise  and  commotion  of  the 
street,  the  rattle  of  wheels,  and  the  discordant  cries  of 
the  vendors  and  beggars  always  hanging  around  the 
steps  of  Italian  churches. 

But  in  travelling,  one's  emotions  are  constantly  being 
jarred  upon.  The  religious  and  the  profane,  the  artis- 
tic and  th>}  ridiculous,  are  so  hopelessly  mingled,  and 
are  thrust  upon  us  in  such  quick  succession,  that  if  we 
do  not  learn  to  turn  our  interest  and  attention  rapidly 
from  one  to  the  other,  we  are  apt  to  lose  half  of  what 
we  see.  I  wonder  if  it  is  not  a  lack  of  this  happy  fac- 
ulty that  makes  us  so  often  fail  to  appreciate  certain 
things,  and  see  in  them  all  that  others  have  seen? 

What  could  be  moio  out  of  joint  than  to  step  from 
Milan  Cathedral  into  the  Galleria  Vittorio  Emmanuele, 
a  beautiful  bazaar,  full  of  gay  shops  !  It  is  also  adorned 
with  some  fine  modern  statues,  especially  one  of  Chris- 
topher Columbus.     The  ground-plan  of  the  building  is 


MILAN  AXD   VERONA, 


141 


in  the  form  of  a  cross,  each  arm  terminating  in  a  street, 
and  the  roof  is  all  of  glass.  It  is  still  in  the  hands  of 
the  builders,  but  one  of  the  four  entrances  that  is  com- 
pleted, presents  quite  an  imposing  appearance. 

The  various  churches  of  Milan  are  of  unusual  inter- 
est, particularly  that  of  Saint  Ambrose.  It  carries  one's 
thoughts  back  to  the  early  ChriF^.tians,  having  been 
founded  about  the  third  vX*ntury,  on  the  site  of  a  Ro- 
man tem[)lc,  which  was  demolished.  In  the  construc- 
tion of  the  Christian  church,  some  of  the  columns  and 
other  materials  of  the  old  building  were  used,  and  even 
•aow,  strange  Pagan  animals  and  devices  are  seen  here 
and  there.  The  curious  old  sarcophagus  Df  Stilico,  the 
conqueror  of  the  Hun«?,.  stands  near  the  pulpit. 

Th'  church  has  all  the  old  divisions  which  we  read 
of  as  belonging  to  the  primitive  ages  of  Lhe  faith.  We 
first  enter  a  square  enclosure  surrounded  by  high  walls 
and  columns,  but  open  at  the  top.  This  was  the  place 
for  the  catechumens  and  penitents,  who  were  excluded 
from  all  participation  in  the  more  sacred  mysteries. 
Traversing  this  court  we  reach  the  entrance  to  the 
church,  part  of  the  ancient  door  being  still  preserved, 
where  the  undaunted  Saint  Ambrose  met  the  Emperor 
Theodosius,  and  after  solemnly  rebuking  him  for  the 
barbarous  massacre  of  his  subjects  in  lUyricum,  reso- 
lutely refused  to  admit  him  into  the  church  until  he 
had  done  penance.  And  it  was  there  on  the  rough 
pavement  of  that  outer  court  that  the  great  Emperor 
of  the  East,  in  penitential  garb,  prostrated  himself, 
weeping  and  imploring  the  prayers  of  the  faithful  as 
they  passed  in  and  out.  These,  touched  by  the  sight 
of  their  sovereign  in  such  deep  humiliation,  joined  their 
entreaties  with  his  that  his  punishment  might  be  re- 
mitted. This  the  saintly  Bishop  refused  to  do  until  the 
Emperor  had  repealed  all  the  unjust  laws  that  he  had 


142 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


decreed  ia  haste  or  passion.     Then,  and  not  till  then, 
did  he  again  attempt  to  enter  the  srcred  portals. 

How  vividly  the  whole  scene  is  pictured  before  us  as 
the  heavy  door  swings  open.  But  lo  !  a  casual  word 
caught  from  the  conversation  of  those  who  are  issuing 
forth,  and  it  is  no  longer  an  emperor  expelled  by  a 
bishop  that  we  see,  but  a  pope  thrust  out  by  a  king. 
As  wc  stand  on  the  soil  of  this  same  Italy — the  scene 
of  the  great  modern  drama  of  Pius  IX.  and  Victor 
Emmanuel,  which  is  being  enacted  before  our  very 
eyes,  and  whose  closing  scene  is  looked  forward  to  with 
deep  interest  by  the  whole  Christian  world  —  how 
strange,  how  far,  far  back  in  the  past,  seems  that  old 
stf^ry  of  Saint  Ambrose  and  the  Emperor  Theodosius  ! 
However,  the  old  church  stands  open  before  us  and  we 
enter.  First,  there  is  a  large  open  space  comprising  the 
main  part  of  the  building,  which  was  intended  for  the 
faithful  in  general.  Beyond,  the  floor  is  raised,  thus 
marking  the  boundary  of  the  sanctuary.  On  this  low 
platform  the  officiating  priest  said  Mass  with  his  face 
toward  the  people,  and,  consequently,  standing  behind 
the  altar.  It  was  in  those  days  that  the  altar  consisted 
of  a  flat  table  with  nc  tabernacle,  and  the  blessed  sacra- 
ment was  suspended  from  the  ceiling  in  a  silver  dove. 
Farther  back  still  than  this  platform,  and  raised  yet 
higher,  is  the  apse,  occupying  the  far  end  of  the  basil- 
ica. In  this  semicircular  place  the  ecclesiastics  sat,  and 
at  the  back  of  ^he  semicircle  is  still  seen  the  solid  white 
marble  chair  of  Saint  Ambrose.  This  is  the  oldest 
episcopal  chair  in  existence,  except  that  of  St.  Peter  at 
Rome.  The  present  altar  of  the  church,  which  stands 
on  the  centre  platform  I  mentioned,  is  plated  with  pure 
gold  about  the  thickness  of  a  oilver  dollar,  enamelled  in 
different  colors,  and  set  with  hundreds  of  precious 
stones — diamonds,  emeralds,  opals,  amethysts,   rubies, 


MILAN  AWD   VERONA. 


143 


and  sapphires.  It  is  really  dazzling  and  was  all  the  gift 
of  one  prince  to  the  tomb  of  Saint  Ambrose,  wlio  is 
buried  beneath  it. 

San  Lorenzo  is  an  old  pagan  temple  that  without 
any  alteration  has  been  converted  into  a  church.  It 
has  a  round,  dome-like  shape  ;  and  a  circle  of  fluted 
columns  standing  out  some  distance  from  the  wall 
gives  it  the  form  of  a  large  rotunda  church  with  smaller 
chapels  all  around. 

In  the  refectory  of  an  old  convent  we  found  Leonardo 
da  Vinci's  celeh^'ated  "Last  Supper."  Though  very 
much  defaced  and  injured,  the  expression  of  our  Lord's 
face  is  wonderful.  It  combines  gentleness,  love,  grief, 
manliness,  and  divinity  so  perfectly  that  one  could 
almost  believe  that  it  had  been  painted  by  an  angel,  or 
at  least  by  an  inspired  man.  The  face  and  position  of 
each  disciple  is  intended  to  show  some  especial  trait  of 
character.  It  is  very  sad  to  see  such  a  magnificent 
fresco  falling  to  pieces  and  becoming  more  and  more 
difficult  to  decipher,  while  so  many  unsightly  produc- 
tions now  in  existence  will  probably  be  glaring  at  the 
world  in  undimmed  distinctness  for  ages  to  come. 

In  the  Brera  Gallery  we  sa\v  paintings  by  many  of 
the  old  iTiasters — among  others,  Raphael's  "  Marriage 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,"  in  which  Uncle  and  I  were  both 
disappointed.  He  said  that  the  norks  of  the  virgins 
looked  gawky  and  wooden  ;  that  the  disappointed  lover 
breaking  his  blossomless  rod  across  his  knee,  resembled 
a  circus  clown,  and,  in  a  word,  criticised  it  unmercifully. 
We  thought,  how^ever,  that  the  conception  of  the  picture 
was  very  fine,  and  that  some  of  the  faces  were  beauti- 
ful. I  told  Uncle  that  I  only  wished  Raphael  had  not 
painted  it  until  he  had  perfected  himself  in  drawing  and 
coloring  as  he  did  afterwards,  at  which  wise  little  re- 
mark he  might,  perhaps,  have  laughed  in  his  sleeve  had 


144 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


he  not  become  at  that  moment  intent  on  a  "  Martyr- 
dom of  St.  Stephen,"  by  Daniele  Crespi,  and  I,  just  for 
the  sake  of  asserting  my  independence,  I  suppose,  gave 
it  a  mere  glance  and  then  became  very  enthusiastic 
over  a  Httle  ''  Saint  John  the  Baptist,"  by  Poussin.  Of 
the  innumerable  statues  and  paintings  in  this  gallery, 
to  which  we  could  give  but  a  hurried  admiration,  it 
would  be  worse  than  useless  even  to  speak. 

We  have  seen  nearly  everything  of  note  in  Verona. 
Uncle  is  quite  disgusted  with  it  in  reality,  having 
formed,  in  imagination,  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  its 
beauty  and  picturesqueness  from  Ruskin's  high-flcwn 
description.  (I  do  not  mean  to  complain  of  Ruskin 
in  general,  for,  between  rusty-brown  covers  he  was 
one  of  our  favorite  travelling  companions.)  We  visited 
a  number  of  churclies,  quaint  old  buildings  each  and 
all.  but  not  of  particular  interest.  In  one  of  them  is  a 
picture  of  the  "Assumption,"  by  Titian;  also  some 
fine  frescoes,  and  the  tomb  of  Saint  Agatha. 

The  house  of  the  Capulets,  where  Juliet  lived  and 
loved,  is  shown ;  I  must  say  that  it  did  not  look  very, 
very  romantic,  witii  damp  clothes  hanging  out  to  dry 
all  around  it;  and  of  course  tJie  very  tomb  is  pcinted 
out,  at  which  Romeo  and  Juliet  completed  the  famous 
tragedy. 

This  reminds  me  of  our  absurd  visit  to  the  tombs  of 
the  Scaligers.  We  were  told  again  and  again  to  be 
sure  and  see  them,  that  they  were  one  of  the  sights  of 
Ve  jna.  What  they  could  be,  we  had  not  the  slightest 
idea.  After  a  great  jumbling  of  keys  and  confusion  of 
ideas,  we  were  guided  into  what  appeared  to  be  a  marble 
yard,  or  something  of  the  kind,  where  stood  a  cluster  of 
pointed,  Gothic,  arched,  not  very  large  indescribables, 
each  surmounted  by  a  figure.  "What  do  they  mean? 
which   is  which?    haven't  they  some  story?  who  are 


MILAiY  AiVD   VERONA. 


145 


these  scalawags?"  for  this  was  as  near  as  we  could 
possibly  come  to  the  sound  of  the  name.  To  all  these 
questions,  reiterated  with  great  emphasis,  the  guide  only 
looked  blank,  and  the  woman  of  the  premises  shook 
her  keys. 

"  Tombs!  "  said  he,  stolidly. 

"  Scaligers  !  "  said  she,  pointing. 

This  was  all  we  could  possibly  extort  from  them. 

"  Come,  Nell,"  said  Uncle  at  last,  despairing  of  further 
mformation,  -let  us  leave  these  interesting  people  to 
rest  in  peace.  We  know  thnt  they,  he,  she  or  it,  are  or 
IS  dead  and  buried,  and  that  is  more  than  we  knew  be- 
fore." 

Verona  is  wonderfully  fortified  with  walls,  moats,  and 
earthworks ;  there  is  also  the  old  Roman   castle  and 
bridge    to  visit.     The    great  amphitheatre,  though,    is 
best  worth  seeing.     There  it  stands  (what  is  left  of  it) 
with  the  openings  through  which  the  gladiators  and  the 
lions  bounded  into  the  arena  ;  the  prisons  where  they 
were  kept,  the  royal  balcony,  the  music  stand,  the  tiers 
of  marble  seats,  the  galleries  and  arches-everything  • 
and  It  needed  but  little  imagination  to  fill  up  what  was 
wanting,  in  order  to  have  before  us  the  whole  thrilling 
-oectacle  just  as  it  appeared  in  the  days  of  pagan  Rome 


:ii! 


XVIII. 


A    WEEK   IN     VENICE. 


THE    GRANDE    CANALE   AT    SUNSET^THE    "STARS    AND    STRIPES' 


-THE 


PIAZZETTA — SCENES  ON   THE  GREAT    I'lAZZA  DI   SAN   MARCO — VENICE 
AT   NIGHT — THE   BRAVO — THE   LIDO. 


:t  ^i 


When  we  had  left  Padua  far  behind,  and  were  rap- 
idly approaching  the  sea,  the  land  became  more  and 
more  flat  and  marshy,  until  at  last  we  found  ourselves 
riding  out  into  the  open  Lagoon,  as  the  bay  or  enclos- 
ure of  Venice  is  called.  The  railroad  is  built  on  a  nar- 
row bridge  or  viaduct.  Here  we  caught  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  "  floating  city,"  and  it  was  certainly  very  beauti- 
ful, with  the  spires  and  domes  of  its  ninety  churches  ris- 
ing above  the  houses,  and  seeming  to  have  sprung  out 
of  the  waves,  for  not  a  particle  of  land  was  to  be  seen. 
We  went  whirling  into  the  depot,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
we  might  have  thought  ourselves  in  any  other  city. 
There  was  the  same  rush  and  bustle,  running  after  the 
baggage,  and  general  confusion.  But  the  instant  we 
passed  out  at  the  depot  door,  and  saw  the  steps 
descending  to  the  water,  we  realized  that  we  were  in 
Venice.  Numerous  floating  cabs  and  omnibuses,  or,  in 
other  words,  gondolas,  were  in  waiting,  and  after  some 
preliminary  attempts  to  make  ourselves  understood  in 
bad  German  and  worse  Italian — these  being  the  only 
languages  spoken — we  were  comfortably  stowed  away 
with  our  valises  in  a  pretty  little  gondola,  having  di- 
rected the  gondolier  to  take  us  to  the  Piazza  San 
(146) 


A   IVEEK  LV  VENICE. 


H7 


Marco  by  way  of  the  "  Grande  Canale."    This  principal 
channel  winds  through  the  city  in  the  shape  of  an  S, 


B 
V. 

n 
w 


dividing  it  into  two  distinct  parts,  and  I  have  heard  it 
called  the  "  Broadway  of  Venice." 


148 


AROUND   THE  WORLD. 


\ 


When  the  gondolier  dipped  his  oar  in  the  water,  our 
Httle  craft  began  to  ghde  along  as  swiftly  and  noiseless- 
ly a3  a  phantom  boat,  a  mere  shadow  on  the  water.  It 
was  just  at  sunset,  and  such  a  sunset  I  have  never  seen 
elsewhere.  The  whole  sky,  from  horizon  to  zenith, 
was  a  mass  of  light,  fleecy,  golden  cloudlets  ;  they  pro- 
duced a  remarkable  effect  that  I  will  always  associate 
with  my  first  gondola-ride  in  Venice.  A  strange  golden 
glow  seemed  to  spread  over  everything.  Each  turn  in 
the  Grande  Canale  showed  us  new  wonders  in  architec-  " 
ture ;  old  palaces  and  churches  whose  marble  fronts, 
now  discolored  by  age,  were  elaborately  carved  into 
beautiful  flowers,  hideous  faces,  or  lovely  little  cherubs. 
Indeed,  if  I  could  describe  them  as  they  really  are, 
those  who  have  not  seen  them  might  think  that  I  was 
drawing  upon  my  imagination  ;  I  can  hardly  believe 
myself  that  it  was  not  all  a  dream — those  gorgeous  vis- 
tas that  opened  before  us,  as  we  glided  on  in  the  glow- 
ing light.  When  we  neared  the  great  square  or  piazza, 
the  buildings  we  saw  were  even  more  rich  and  beauti- 
ful. Then  the  inner  harbor  opened  before  us,  where 
the  flags  of  many  countries  were  floating  over  the  ships 
which  lay  at  anchor.  It  is  strange  what  a  thrill  one 
feels  at  sight  of  the  "  Stars  and  Stripes  "  in  a  foreign 
land — almost  like  a  message  from  home. 

On  one  side  of  us  was  the  great  dome  of  Santa  Maria 
della  Salute,  built  in  performance  of  a  vow  made  during 
a  great  plague  in  the  city ;  but  the  eye  turns  from  this, 
and  the  beautiful  island  of  San  Giorgio,  the  ships,  the 
bay,  and  the  sunset,  to  dwell  on  the  great  centre  of 
everything  in  Venice,  the  Doge's  Palace,  a  marvel  of 
beauty.  Just  across  a  small  canal  is  the  prison,  a 
gloomy,  solemn,  yet  graceful  structure ;  and  there  high 
above  the  water,  connectmg  the  two,  is  the  lovely  little 
covered  bridge — the  world-renowned  "  Bridge  of  Sighs." 


A    IVEEk'  IN  VENICE. 


149 


You  could"  not  but  feci  the  appropriateness  of  the  name 
after  having  seen  the  dreadful  little  dark  cells  prepared 
for  the  many  p'-isoners  who  crossed  it  never  to  return. 

The  Piazzetta  contains  two  tall  columns,  on  one  of 
which  is  a  curious  old  statue  of  St.  Theodore,  ancient 
patron  of  the  city ;  and  on  the  other  is  the  famous 
*'  Winged  Lion,"  who,  with  his  defiant  attitude  and 
fierce  eyes,  might  well  terrify  any  unwelcome  intru- 
ders. Passing  through  this  small  square,  we  stood  on 
one  end  of  the  great  Piazza.  It  is  paved  with  large 
flag-stones,  greenish-blue  and  white,  arranged  in  differ- 
ent figures  like  mosaic-work.  It  is  enclosed  on  three 
sides  by  the  old  and  the  new  Procuratie,  or  palace  of 
the  magistrates,  now  turned  into  public  libraries,  gal- 
leries, and  private  dwellings.  It  was  in  a  part  of  these 
buildings  that  our  hotel  was  situated,  and  there  was  al- 
ways something  lively  and  interesting  to  be  seen  from 
the  windows.  When  the  clock  in  the  Campanile  struck 
two,  at  which  time  we  generally  took  dinner,  the  pig- 
eons, who  are  thought  by  the  Venetians  to  bring  good 
luck  to  their  city,  would  flock  to  the  Piazza  in  countless 
numbers  to  be  fed.  Then  a  curly-headed  little  boy, 
sometimes  a  young  girl,  would  throw  handfuls  of  grain 
to  them.  Uncle  and  I  often  coaxed  dozens  of  them 
to  the  window  where  we  sat,  by  scattering  crumbs  on 
the  sill.  How  tame  they  were,  and  how  well  they  knew 
the  sound  of  their  dinr  ^r-bell ! 

In  the  evening,  when  we  sat  at  the  same  window, 
eating  our  supper,  the  scene  would  be  very  different.  The 
pigeons  had  all  gone  to  roost,  and  the  people  now  be- 
gan to  gather  from  all  quarters  to  enjoy  the  air  and  a 
walk,  on  the  only  large  spot  of  open  ground  in  Venice. 
In  a  short  time  the  vast  square  would  be  covered  with 
a  shifting  mass  of  promenading  humanity.  A  band  of 
music  played  in  the  centre  of  the  square,  in  the  midst 


liJO 


AROUND   riir.    WORLD. 


, 


of  a  circle  of  gaslights  ;  then  all  around  the  edge,  as  if 
in  defiance  of  the  massive,  frowning  buildings  above 
them,  were  the  most  brilliant  shops  of  beautiful  pic- 
tures, delicately- wrought  vases,  and  glass-ware,  for 
which  Venice  is  so  noted,  rare  jewelry  of  every  kind, 
and,  in  fact,  everything  most  exquisite  and  bright,  for 
the  stores  of  heavier  and  coarser  goods  are  confined  to 
the  strange  little  narrow  passage-ways  that  are  called 
streets,  though  in  many  places  scarcely  wide  enough  for 
two  persons  to  walk  abreast.  By  means  of  these  and 
three  hundred  bridges,  you  can  go  to  nearly  every  part 
of  Venice  without  a  gondola,  but  if  not  familiar  with 
them,  it  often  happens  that  you  find  yourself  in  the 
court-yard  of  a  house,  and  must  retrace  your  steps  to 
find  some  other  way;  these  paths  are  so  intricate,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  go  more  than  a  few  yards  without 
twisting  about  in  the  most  outlandish  fashion.  As 
there  are  no  carriage-wheels  or  horse's  hoofs  heard  in 
this  strangest  of  cities,  it  has  a  characteristic  quiet, 
only  broken  by  the  mingling  of  voices,  the  clatter  of 
feet  on  the  pavement,  or  the  shrill  calls  of  the  gondo- 
liers as  they  turn  each  corner. 

To  be  out  in  a  gondola  at  night — this  exceeds  all. 
There  is  a  strange  witchery  about  Venice  at  all  times, 
but  in  ihe  evening  it  seems  ablaze  with  hundreds  of 
lights,  each  one  reflected  far  out  in  the  water ;  the  glit- 
tering steel  prows  of  the  phantom-like  gondolas  (all  ex- 
cept the  prow  is  black)  appear,  flash  in  the  light,  and 
vanish  as  they  glide  swiftly  and  noiselessly  along; 
the  dark  outline  of  the  buildings,  the  dizzy  height  of 
the  Campanile  can  be  traced  on  the  deep  blue  of  the 
Italian  sky,  dotted  with  stars  apparently  so  near,  that 
at  a  little  distance  on  the  water,  they  seem  to  mingle 
.  with  the  lights  of  the  city,  which  appears  itself  to  be 
suspended  in  air. 


iii^liii 


^  ,  : 


ii:il::lf.;i;!|!!!|ir''' 


H 

ft 
w 


r 

H 

o 


'il!i.,;r.Wil!'i'i' 


o 

01 


en 
P 


■'i!fei!:::'!ili 


I'; 


A    WEEK  IN  VEXICE. 


151 


The  Catlicdral  of  San  Marco  I  will  not  attempt  to 
describe,  for  I  have  already  exhausted  my  adjectives 
and  superlatives.  Its  general  appearance,  with  its  five 
domes  and  ccmtless  pinnacles,  suggests  the  idea  of  an 
old  Oriental  mosque.  One  can  not  pass  unnoticed  its 
four  gilt  horses  that  have  been  such  travellers,  having 
been  carried  by  different  conquerory  from  the  East  to 
Venice,  to  Rome,  to  Paris,  and  are  at  last  resting,  or 
rather  prancing,  in  their  old  place  over  the  door  of  San 
Marco. 

We  read  Cooper's  "  Bravo  "  while  we  were  in  Venice, 
and  it  was  just  the  kind  of  a  story  to  attach  a  myste- 
rious interest  to  everything  vv^e  saw.  When  we  crossed 
the  Piazzetta  in  the  evening,  I  imagined  I  saw  Jacopo's 
pale  face  near  the  tall  columns.  When  we  visited  the 
Doge's  Palace,  the  sccn-^s  of  the  story  were  constantly  be- 
fore me ;  peering  into  the  cells,  I  seemed  to  sec  the  old 
father  stretched  on  the  floor;  in  their  darkened  room 
the  awful  Council  of  Three  were  sitting  in  solemn  con- 
clave ;  and  midway  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  we  were  en- 
countered by  the  jailor's  daughter,  coming  timidly  forth 
with  the  Bravo.  When  we  went  over  to  the  Lido,  and 
saw  the  Adriatic,  and  the  long,  narrow  stretches  of  sand 
that  separate  it  from  the  Lagoon,  I  thought  of  Jacopo's 
expedition  to  the  bleak  old  Jewish  cemetery  out  there, 
the  steel  blades  flashing  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  re- 
turn to  Venice  in  the  dark.  But  then  again,  gorgeous 
pictures  of  the  marriage  of  the  Adriatic  would  chase 
from  our  thoughts  such  gloomy  scenes. 

On  our  way  back  from  the  Lido,  Uncle  changed  places 
awhile  with  the  gondolier,  but  he  found  that  the  motion 
of  the  one  long  oar  in  propelling  the  gondola  was  very 
different  from  any  rowing  or  sculling  he  had  ever  done, 
and  I  laughed  to  see  the  way  he  made  the  little  craft 
spin  round  and  round  on  the  water.     After  five  or  ten 


152 


AROUMD  THE  WORLD. 


minutes  of  great  exertion  on  his  part,  wc  were  still  in 
the  same  spot,  and  there  is  no  telling  how  long  wc 
might  have  remaii->ed  there,  whirling  around  on  the 
quiet  water,  had  not  the  gondolier  once  more  taken 
the  oar,  and  with  a  few  graceful  strokes,  sent  us  skim- 
ming swiftly  toward  the  city. 


XIX. 

ART. 


A  DREAKY  SCENK —  BOLOGNA  —  A  I'lLGRIMAGK  CHUKCIl  —  ol'IMONS 
AHOUr  PICTURES — GUIDO  RENl'S  MATER  DOLOROSA — A  KIDE 
TjIROUGlI    THE   TUNNELS. 

Our  week  in  Venice  was  like  a  beautiful  dream — 
more  fanciful  and  fairy-like  than  any  picture  of  the  im- 
agination— from  which  we  did  not  fully  awake  until  we 
found  ourselves  once  more  on  the  cars  rolling  over  the 
flat  campagna  towards  Bologna.  After  we  caught  the 
last  glimpses  of  the  Tyrolear  Alps  in  the  distance,  it 
was  a  long  ride  on  the  dreary  plain,  stretching  towards 
the  horizon  on  every  side  without  a  break.  It  was 
covered  with  scrubby  little  mulberry  trees,  the  last 
yellow  and  forlorn  vestiges  of  grape-vines  clinging  to 
their  trunks,  instead  of  the  graceful  festoons  of  luxuri- 
ant leaves  and  dark  purple  or  golden  grapes  that 
adorned  them  in  the  sammcr  months,  reaching  from  one 
tree  to  another  and  almost  touching  the  grass  be- 
tween. The  busy  silk-worms  were  at  work  among  the 
mulberries. 

Bologna  is  a  curious  place,  and  noted  for  other  things 
besides  sausages.  The  houses  are  built  out  over  the 
pavements,  supported  by  rows  of  pillars  and  arches, 
making  a  succession  of  beautiful  colonnades  with  long 
vistas  through  them.  We  found  them  useful  as  well 
as  ornamental,  for  in  spite  of  a  rainy  day  we  could  walk 
around  to  the  different  "  sights  "  with  comparative  com- 
fort, only  raising  our  umbrellas  at  the  crossings. 
7*  (153) 


154 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


By  the  way,  one  hears  so  much  of  "  sunny  Italy,"  yet 
we  have  found  it  almost  as  rainy  as  Scotland ;  except 
the  week  we  spent  in  \  enice,  where  we  had  a  real, 
deep  blue  Italian  sky,  fleecy,  snow-white  clouds  and  a 
strange,  soft  sunlight.  But  to  return  to  Bologna.  There 
are  two  old  leaning  towers  in  the  central  square  of  the 
city  that  look  as  if  they  might  tumble  down  on  the 
heads  of  the  market  people  below  at  any  moment. 
There  were  several  churches  of  interest,  but  principally 
the  Pilgrimage  Church  of  St.  Luke.  It  is  on  the  top 
of  a  small  moun:ain  at  a  short  distance  from  the  town. 
Leading  ti'  the  summit  is  a  long  zigzag  colonnade  erect- 
ed by  different  pious  persons  for  the  convenience  of 
pilgrims.  There  were  stations  of  the  Passion,  and 
other  holy  pictures  frescoed  on  the  walls,  at  intervals, 
in  a  rude  manner,  and  much  defaced,  but  they  evidently 
inspired  as  much  devotion  as  if  they  were  masterpieces, 
for  as  we  slowly  ascended,  puffing  and  blowing  at  a 
great  rate,  and  wondering  at  each  new  turn  if  we  were 
nearly  up,  we  saw  a  number  of  persons  making  the 
pilgrimage  and  stopping  to  say  a  few  prayers  at  each 
shrine.  The  church  (when  you  get  there)  is  quite 
pretty  ;  it  has  a  dome  in  the  centre,  and  being  perched 
on  the  very  top  of  a  hill,  it  can  be  seen  at  a  great  dis- 
tance ;  from  it  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  Apennines. 
We  saw  the  famous  Madonna  di  San  Luca,  believed  to 
have  been  painted  by  the  Evangelist  himself,  and  f  ^r 
which  the  church  and  the  pilgrimage  were  built.  All 
that  remains  of  the  picture  are  the  faces  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  and  Child,  whose  expressions  are  very  sweet ; 
they  are  carefully  enshrined  in  a  case  rich  with  precious 
gems,  as  are  all  of  these  miraculous  p'':tures  and  images, 
for  every  one  who  obtains  an  especial  blessing  brings 
some  present,  from  a  tin  heart  or  plain  gold  ring  to  the 
costliest  diamond  crown. 


ART. 


155 


The  picture  gallery  at  Bologna  was  grand.  There 
was  Raphael's  great  "  Saint  Cecilia."  I  have  not  seen 
any  other  picture  of  his  that  I  think  can  compare  with 
this ;  it  seems  to  express  so  much  more  feeling  and 
inspiration  than  most  of  his  saints  and  madonnas,  which, 
as  Uncle  says,  are  beautiful,  but  not  inspiring.  Ra- 
phael's designs  are  exquibitcly  graceful  and  charming, 
and  there  is  a  wonderful  richness  and  softness  about 
his  paintings  that  we  never  see  in  the  copies  ;  otherwise 
these  copies,  and  even  the  engravings  (good  ones,  of 
course),  give  one  a  very  accurate  idea  of  the  originals. 
But  now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  should  not 
wonder  if  all  this  sounded  rather  ridiculous  and  pre- 
sumptuous from  me;  but  never  mind!  I  will  just  give 
my  own  opinions,  and  they  can  be  taken  for  what  they 
are  worth.  Then  I  hear  enough  from  the  conversations 
of  artists  and  others  "  that  know,"  to  learn  something 
about  what  is,  and  what  is  not,  the  right  thing.  It  is 
generally  understood  that  everybody  who  comes  to 
Italy  begins  to  talk  about  Art.  Why,  you  couldn't 
help  it  if  you  tried!  and  I  often  enjoy  listening  to 
the  discussions  of  tourists  at  the  table  d'hote,  when  they 
have  just  come  from  some  gallery  and  are  very  enthu- 
siastic and  animated,  or  at  least  interested.  Some  of 
them  take  all  their  ideas  from  the  guide-books — these 
speak  with  the  perfect  assurance  of  saying  what  is 
proper;  others  have  no  ideas  at  all  about  the  pictures  ; 
these  seem  to  consider  a  visit  to  one  of  the  larger 
galleries  like  a  long  and  tedious  journey  by  rail,  to  be 
accomplished  in  such  a  length  of  time,  with  certain 
necessary  stoppages,  not  for  "  refreshments,"  however, 
O  no  !  but  to  be  bored  with  another  of  those  everlast- 
ing madonnas  or  Saint  Sebastian^ ;  finally,  there  is 
another  class,  who  have  their  own  individual  impressions 
and   tell  you  frankly  what    they  think  about  the  old 


156 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


masters.  These  are  much  the  most  entertaining,  even 
though  they  do  sometimes  say  things  that  would  shock 
some  of  our  learned  artist  friends. 

Michael  Angelo  is  always  noble  and  p'-and,  but  we 
have  not  yet  seen  all  of  his  masterpieces ;  guide-books, 
travellers,  and  artists  all  agree  about  him ;  one  can  not 
feel  anything  but  admiration  for  his  great  works,  he 
was  such  an  overpowering  genius.  His  wonderful 
boldness  is  seen  in  the  many  unfinished  statues  that  he 
has  left  behind  him ;  he  scarcely  ever  waited  to  make  a 
clay  model,  but  dashed  into  the  marble,  where  one 
sees  great  deep  chipoings,  apparently  growing  more 
careful  as  the  figure  began  to  shape  itself.  He 
is  said  to  have  hammered  at  the  stone  with  won- 
derful rapidity,  pieces  of  marble  flying  here  and  there, 
as  if  the  great  conceptions  of  his  mind  could  not  wait 
for  the  slow  development  of  the  hard  material  with 
which  he  labored. 

We  find  it  very  interesting  to  trpce  the  different 
schools  of  art,  each  having  its  peculiar  characteristics. 
For  instance,  there  are  Rubens  and  the  other  Flemish 
artists,  noted  for  the  great  strength  and  muscle  dis- 
played in  their  paintings.  They  seemed  to  take  pleas- 
ure in  showing  the  human  body  in  exertion,  pushing, 
pulling,  lifting,  straining.  The  Venetian  artists  painted 
the  most  beautiful  garments  of  velvet,  satin,  and  other 
rich  materials.  The  folds  of  the  splendid  robes  of  those 
old  doges,  popes,  and  symbolical  figures  which  they 
were  so  fond  of  representing,  are  marvellously  natural 
and  graceful.  The  Bologna  school  was  very  pious,  and 
certainly  there  is  something  grand  and  inspiring  about 
Guido  Reni  that  1  have  not  found  in  any  one  else,  ex- 
cept Leonardo  da  Vinci.  I  hear  so  much  of  the  pre- 
Raphaelite  painters,  their  beautiful  expressions,  but  to 
me  the  dreadful  disproportions  of  the  figures,  and  the 


ART. 


157 


eyes — sometimes  mere  slits  under  the  hair — give  such 
a  painful  sensation  in  looking  at  them,  that  it  destroys 
for  me  all  the  beauty  of  the  idea.  Of  course  they  are 
very  valuable  as  showing  what  wonderful  progress  in 
drawing  and  coloring  was  made  in  the  course  of  a  cen- 
tury or  so,  even  during  the  lifetime  of  Raphael  himself. 
The  "  Marriage  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,"  one  of  his  early 
pictures  which  we  saw  at  Milan,  painted,  no  doubt, 
while  he  was  still  under  the  influence  of  his  master, 
Perugino,  before  his  own  genius  began  fully  to  assert 
itself,  belongs  to  an  entirely  different  period  and  style 
of  art  from  his  later  Madonnas.  I  can  not  see  the  use 
of  praising  and  m,aking  so  much  of  these  early  pictures 
in  which  you  have  to  look  at  so  much  that  is  frightful 
with  the  little  that  is  meritorious,  when  there  are  such 
painters  as  Guido  Reni,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  Fra  Bartolo- 
meo,  and  others,  in  whose  works  are  united  with  a 
spiritual  expression,  beautiful  forms,  graceful  and  noble 
designs. 

It  seems  to  me  that  nothing  shows  more  forcibly 
the  master-stroke,  than  the  power  that  one  picture  oft- 
en has  of  drawing  and  confining  one's  attention  in  a 
room  full  of  the  works  of  famous  arti-^.ts. 

In  the  gallery  at  Bologna,  besides  his  Crucifixion  and 
many  others,  there  is  a  large  picture  by  Guido,  reach- 
ing from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling  The  lov.'^er  part  of  it 
consists  of  a  number  of  saints,  patrons  of  the  city,  I  be- 
lieve. I  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  these,  but  the 
upper  half  of  it  was  sublime.  It  represen'^ed  the  Bless- 
ed Virgin  standing  behind  the  dead  body  of  our  Lord. 
It  was  very  simple,  but  with  a  wonderful  something 
about  it.  The  body  lay  on  a  low  bier,  w'th  a  weeping 
angel  at  either  end  ;  the  livid  hue  of  the  flesh  sent  a 
chill  through  me  ;  one  arm  had  fallen  over  the  side  of  the 
bier  onto  the  ground,  thus  exposing  the  five  wounds. 


^" 


EZl 


158 


AROUND    THE   WORLD, 


But  that  grand,  noble,  sorrowful  figure  of  Mater  Dolo- 
rosa !  it  was  so  solemn,  so  lonely,  yet  all  nature  seem- 
ed to  sympathize  with  her  grief — the  dark  outline  of 
the  rocks,  and  the  lowering,  gray  clouds,  showing  pale 
streaks  of  blue  here  and  there.  The  face  was  not,  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  beautiful,  but  care-worn 
and  marked  with  suffering.  It  seemed  as  if  her  grief 
were  too  holy  and  heart-rending  for  any  but  angel  eyes 
to  witness ;  but  there  it  was,  traced  on  the  canvas  with 
such  marvellous  truth,  to  be  appreciated  or  carelessly 
glanced  at,  by  any  who  visited  this  gallery. 

Between  Bologna  and  Florence  we  crossed  the  cen- 
tral range  of  the  Apennines,  and  although  it  was  only 
a  ride  of  a  few  hours,  we  went  through  more  than  fifty 
tunnels,  and  on  our  way  up  toward  tbo  summit  of  the 
pass,  we  crossed  the  same  river,  or  rather  stream,  about 
twenty  times,  or  more.  A  vast  amount  of  labor  must 
have  been  expended  on  this  road,  for  it  was  a  succes- 
sion of  viaducts,  bridges,  and  tunnels  the  entire  distance. 

I  was  very  much  amused  with  Uncle's  attempts  to 
read  a  book.  He  had  hardly  commenced  when  we 
dashed  into  a  long  tunnel,  pitch-dark,  of  course.  When 
we  ^  .ime  out  he  would  try  again,  and  by  the  time  he 
had  found  his  place,  in  we  would  go  again.  After  this 
had  been  going  on  for  some  time,  he  finally  shut  the 
book  in  despair. 

The  scenery  was  very  picturesque  and  wild,  an  agree- 
able contrast  to  our  last  trip,  and  as  we  often  find  Eng- 
lish or  American  travellers  in  the  compartment  with  us, 
these  railway  rides  are  sometimes  very  pleasant.  We 
have  formed  a  number  of  acquaintances  in  this  way,  and 
it  is  delightful  to  meet  them  over  and  over  again  where 
we  least  expect  it. 


m 


..,>ii  ti 


Mill  'iPv'''i''' 

III   I   :lr«4* 


XX. 


CITIES    OF    ART. 

FLORKNCE  — AMERICAN  STUDIOS  —  THE  UFFIZI  —  SAN  MAKCO — PISA — 
PKRUCJIA — AN  AMUSING  BOOK — ITALIAN  FOUNTAINS — I'ERUGINO — 
ASSIST. 


When  we  arrived  at  Florence,  the  first  thing  we 
did  after  getting  settled  at  our  hotel,  was  to  buy  a 
hand-book  and  plan  of  the  city,  co  find  out  where  we 
were  situated.  It  was  in  a  good  central  position,  within 
walking  distance  of  all  the  principal  objects  of  interest. 
Uncle  then  found  the  office  of  the  consul,  a  family 
friend.  He  and  his  wife  left  cards  for  us  very  soon, 
and  invited  us  to  a  social  dinner.  Some  of  their  rela- 
tives were  present,  and  we  spent  a  very  pleasant  even- 
ing.    One  afternoon  Mr.  G called  with  his  carriage 

and  took  us  out  driving.  The  drives  around  Florence 
are  beautiful  beyond  comparison.  We  went  first  to 
the  studios  of  a  number  of  American  artists.  Our 
friend  being  an  amateur  sculptor  himself,  and  the  con- 
sul, it  gave  us  a  most  favorable  opportunity  of  visiting 
them.  It  was  very  interesting  to  see  the  artists  at 
work.  They  wear  a  skull-cap  and  a  long,  coarse  apron 
when  they  are  moulding  the  soft  clay.  We  saw  the 
plaster  casts  from  which  the  employed  workmen  were 
chiseling  out  the  marble.  It  seemed  strange  to  see  the 
figure  growing  gradually,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  solid 
block,  in  which  little  brass  pegs  were  stuck  here  and 
there,  as  guiding   points.     Then  last  of  all  were  the 


f] 


l\ 


m 


1 60* 


AROUND   THE    WORLD. 


finished  statues,  a  great  many  of  which  were  standing 
around. 

Mr.  Mead  had  just  completed  a  magnificent  model 
of  Ethan  Allen  ;  it  was  almost  eight  feet  high,  and  the 
fierce,  stern  features  and  commanding  attitude,  with  the 
old  revolutionary  costume,  made  it  very  imposing.  I 
am  not  quite  sure  for  which  city  it  was  intended,  but  I 
think  it  was  Boston. 

Mr.  Hart,  of  Kentucky,  is  quite  an  old  gentleman. 
He  showed  us  the  cast  of  his  fine  statue  of  Henry  Clay, 
which,  I  believe,  v/as  unveiled  at  Louisville  a  short 
time  ago. 

We  had  also  an  interesting  visit  to  the  studio  of  Mr. 
Powers,  and  might  almost  believe  that  his  spirit  still 
dwelt  there. 

The  Uffizi  is  an  immense  building,  v/here  you  can 
wander  through  room  after  room  lined  with  the  master- 
pieces of  the  greatest  artists  the  world  has  known.  We 
spent  two  weeks  in  the  city,  and  had  about  four  days 
of  bright  weather ;  the  rest  of  the  time  it  was  rain,  rain, 
rain  ;  but  we  were  only  a  step  from  the  gallery,  and  every 
day  we  would  start  out  with  our  umbrellas,  pass  through 
the  Piazza  della  Signoria,  the  open  square  where  the 
great  Dominican  preacher,  Savonarola,  was  burned  at 
the  stake ;  then  past  the  old  palace  of  the  Medici,  with 
its  frowning  battlements  and  towers,  looking  more  like  a 
fortress  than  a  princely  mansion.  In  front  of  it  is  a 
statue  of  Cosmo,  first  Duke  of  Medici,  by  John  of 
Bologna,  and  a  fountain  with  a  gigantic  statue  of  Nep- 
tune over  eighteen  feet  high,  with  sea-horses,  nymphs, 
tritons,  and  fauns  capering  around  the  basin.  Although 
we  had  to  mount  four  flights  of  stairs  to  reach  the 
gallery,  there  was  compensation  for  the  fatigue  in  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  the  pictures  in  a  good  light.  Some- 
times it  is  very  annoying  to  go  to  a  church  or  palace  to 


CITIES  OF  ART. 


l6l 


see  some  famous  picture  and  then  find  it  in  a  dark  nook 
or  corner,  or  worse  still,  with  a  flaring  light  on  the 
canvas. 

In  the  Uffizi  there  is  a  small  octagonal  room  that  is 
a  perfect  little  gem.  The  first  thing  that  meets  one's 
eye  on  entering  is  the  world-renowned  Venus  dc  Me- 
dici ;  we  were  charmed  at  once  with  the  wonderful 
grace  expressed  in  the  position,  the  limbs,  the  delicately 
poised  head,  which  is  rather  smaller  than  ordinary. 
She  is  represented  as  quite  young — I  should  think, 
hardly  sixteen.  There  is  in  the  same  room  the  lively 
dancing  faun  of  Praxiteles,  with  his  pointed,  leaf-shaped 
ears,  though  this  is  not  the  one  Hawthorne  describes; 
I  saw  that  one  at  Rome.  There  were  three  other 
pieces  of  statuary  which  were  very  beautiful ;  but  as 
Uncle  says  (and  my  own  impression  is  the  same)  in 
these  Greek  statues,  however  delicately  the  forms  and 
the  drapery  are  carved,  the  faces  are  always  cold  and 
stony;  you  can  never  forget  you  are  looking  at  marble. 
It  is  so  different  with  Michael  Angeio,  who  makes,  as  it 
were,  living,  speaking  faces.  But  no,  I  should  not  say 
that  all  the  Greek  statues  are  expressionless,  for  here 
in  this  very  Uffizi  is  that  beautiful,  suffering  face  of 
Niobe,  as  she  tries  to  shelter  her  last  child.  In  the 
statues  of  her  thirteen  other  children,  who  are  repre- 
sented falling  under  the  shots  of  the  arrows,  and  dying 
in  every  possible  position,  we  see  only  physical  suffer- 
ing. In  the  figure  of  Niobe  and  her  child  it  is  not  the 
wondrous  grace,  or  even  the  touching  position,  so 
much  as  the  mental  torture  expressed  in  the  mother's 
face,  that  holds  us  captive.  But  to  return  to  the  Trib- 
une;  there  was  Raphael's  beautiful  Madonna  of  the 
Goldfinch,  and  a  magnificent  portrait  by  him ;  a  Ma- 
donna by  Michael  Angeio,  a  fine  painting  by  Rubens 
(that  I  did  not  like),  and  several  others  by  equally  great 


■ 


1 62 


AROUND   THE   M'ORLD, 


masters  ;  but  what  impressed  me  most  forcibly,  was  a 
painting  by  Guercino,  representing  the  Cuma^an  Sibyl  ; 
among  the  pictures  of  the  old  prophets  and  prophet- 
esses I  have  seen,  there  has  been  no  face  so  wonderfully 
inspired  as  this. 

I  merely  mention  a  few  pictures  in  one  of  the 
rooms;  this  is  but  a  sample  of  the  whole  collection. 
There  arc  in  this  one-half  of  the  gallery,  for  I  call  the 
Pitti  the  other  half,  at  least  twenty-five  roomj:,  many 
of  them  very  large,  besides  three  long  corridors  of  an- 
cient statuary.  The  Uffizi  and  the  Pltti  are  connected 
by  means  of  a  covered  galler>,  about  half  a  mile  long, 
passing  over  the  old  bridge  and  through  the  tops  of  the 
houses,  twisting  and  turning  in  every  possible  way.  In 
the  first  part  of  it  are  engravings  of  celebrated  pictures 
by  Raphael  Morghen,  the  famous  engraver ;  then  came 
sketches  and  rough  designs  in  pencil  and  charcoal,  by 
many  of  the  old  masters ;  they  were  very  interesting, 
and  we  spent  a  long  time  in  looking  them  over,  finding 
sometimes  the  artists'  first  conceptions  of  what  had  af- 
terwards been  carried  out  in  their  celebrated  paintings  ; 
next  beyond  these  sketches  the  walls  of  the  passage 
were  covered  with  tapestry  most  beautifully  wrought 
by  Flemish  weavers,  from  designs  by  Michael  Angelo 
and  Guilio  Romano. 

We  visited  the  Convent  of  San  Marco,  where  we  saw 
the  rooms  of  Savonarola,  and  the  cells  of  the  friars,  in 
each  of  which  was  a  beautiful  fresco  by  Fra  Angelico, 
or  Fra  Bartolomeo,  who  lived  there  themselves.     We 

went  also  to  the  Church  of  St.  Croce,  which  Mr.  G 

called  the  Westminster  of  Florence,  for  there  were  the 
tombs  of  Michael  Angelo,  Raphael  Morghen,  and  many 
other  celebrities.  We  also  saw  the  remains  of  Dante's 
house  ;  and  oh  !  so  many  things  of  great  interest,  that  I 
give  up  trying  to  write  about  them. 


CITIES  OF  ART.  ,63 

From  Florence  we  made  a  little  excursion  to  Pisa, 
and  saw  the  bcautifid  cathedral  and  the  leaning  tower, 
which  we  ascended,  and  visited  the  graveyard,  and  the 
Baptistry,  which  has  a  wonderful  echo,  one  man's  voice 
sounding  like  the  swell  of  a  whole  choir. 

Between  I'lor- 
"  cnce    and    Rome 

we  stoj)ped  at 
Perugia.  It  is 
on  the  very  tip- 
top of  a  ver)' 
high  hill,  one  of 
the  Apennines. 
As  we  j)assed 
along  under  it, 
we  wondered  if  the  train  could 
possibly  ascend  it.  The  railroad 
did  wind  about  half-way  up  the 
ascent,  and  the  rest  of  the  way 
we  had  to  go  in  an  omnibus., 
It  was  a  very  zig-zag  road 
but  well-paved,  and  we  had  beautiful  views  all  the 
way — first,  the  city,  with  its  queer,  old  Etruscan  and 
Roman  Avails ;  then  a  turn  would  show  us  the  long, 
level  plain  of  Umbria,  stretching  over  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles  to  Assisi,  another  old  Roman  town,  growing  right 
out  of  the  side  of  a  mountain.  Ihe  best  hotel  in 
Perugia,  and  the  only  one,  I  think,  is  on  the  very  sum- 
mit ;  and  a  funny,  old-fashioned  one  it  is,  with  low  ceil- 
ings, frescoed  all  over  with  stiff-looking  bouquets  and 
sentimental  young  ladies.  The  most  amusing  thing 
there,  however,  was  an  old  book  of  recommendations, 
in  every  possible  language,  of  Giovanni  Scalchi,  one  of 
the  waiters  who  acted  as  guide  for  the  city.  There 
were   prose,  poetry,  and  conundrums,   by  Americans, 


Stage-coach. 


164 


AROUND  TIIF.    WORLD. 


Kn<;lishincn,  Russians,  I'rcncliincn,  and  Germans  — 
evcryljody,  in  fact,  who  had  visited  the  place  for  the 
last  fifteen  years,  had  employed  Scalchi,  and  written 
about  him.  The  artists  made  pen-and-ink  sketches,  the 
poets  extolled  him  in  verse,  and  the  wits  made  puns 
and  conundrums  on  his  name,  his  occupation,  and 
everything  within  ten  miles  of  the  city.  We  enjoyed 
looking  over  this  curious  book  vjry  much,  and  found 


BArrisTRY  AT  Pisa. 

some  distinguished  names  in  it,  also  those  of  several 
persons  whom  we  knew. 

When  we  visited  Nuremberg,  I  thought  that  city 
was  quaint  enough,  but  Perugia  is  still  more  so.  There 
are  all  sorts  of  arches  and  beams  thrown  across  the 
streets  from  one  house  to  another,  to  prevent  them 
from  tumbling  down  hill,  I  suppose.     Here  and  there 


CITIES  OF  ART. 


165 


you  meet  strange,  old  gateways,  beautifully  carved,  with 
ancient  inscriptions  over  them — old  stairs  and  streets 
running  down  under  the  hou.es,  donkeys  toiling  up 
with  great,  heavy  bags  on  each  side,  maki.ig  them  loc'- 
as  broad  as  they  are  long;  and  the  country  jjcople  with 
goat-skin  breeches  and  colored  jackets  who  drive  them 
flourish  a  long  whip,  and  shout  in  a  manner  peculiar  to 
the  Italians,  though  neither  the  first  nor  the  last  dis- 
turbs the  donkey's  meditations  in  the  least. 

There  is  always  a  very  lively  scene  at  the  fountains 
in  Italy  of  which  every  little  town  has  a  great  number. 
Very  frequently  the  water  runs  into  an  old  stone  sarco- 
phagus, or  else  the  remains  of  a  Roman  bath  ;  at  one  end 
you  will  find  a  number  of  women  washing  clothes  and 
chattering  together  at  a  great  rate ;  at  the  other  end 
the  bright -eyed  peasants  will  be  watering  the  dull- 
eyed  donkeys;  and  perhaps  in  the  centre  a  market- 
woman  will  be  washing  her  cabbages  and  turnips 
under  the  water-spout,  and  a  crowd  of  girls  waiting 
to  fill  their  jugs,  which,  by  the  way,  look  as  if  they 
might  be  the  same  ones  Rachael  used,  or  the  Samari- 
tan woman. 

Perugino,  the  master  of  Raphael,  lived  at  Perugia, 
and  here  you  find  his  masterpieces,  among  them  his 
"  Transfiguration."  Uncle  and  I  have  been  much  inter- 
ested in  looking  at  many  pictures  by  him  and  his 
pupils,  finding  a  great  similarity  in  some  of  the  figures 
and  faces,  many  of  them  being  reproduced  again  and 
again,  not  only  by  Perugino  himself,  but  by  each  of  his 
pupils.  There  is  one  old  man  that  sometimes  repre- 
sents St.  Joseph,  then  you  will  find  the  same  face  as  St. 
Jerome,  or  the  Eternal  Father,  or  on  an  old  Greek 
philosopher;  there  is  one  young  man  with  very  slender 
limbs  and  half-closed  eyes  that  is  at  one  time  a  disap- 
pointed  suitor,    then   has    wings   and    personates   St. 


til 


i 
1 1 


i66 


AROUND  THE  WORLD, 


Michael,  and  again,  leaning  on  a  shield,  is  supposed  to 
be  Alcibiades.    Wc  know  some  of  the  faces  so  well  that 


I    ! 


11  \ 


we  recognize   them   immediately  on   entering   a   new 
gallery. 


CITIES  OF  ART. 


167 


H 
'3     < 


P 


;'>! 

'■.,> 


At  Assisi  we  encountered  the  works  of  Giotto  and 
his  school  at  every  step.  The  great  two-story-and- 
cr)^pt  Church  of  St.  Francis  is  fairly  lined  with  them. 
The  houses  of  this  old  town  cling  to  one  side  of  the 
hill  on  which  it  is  built,  like  a  clus'  er  of  toadstools,  and 
I  am  sure  they  look  quite  as  useless  and  dried  up. 

Scarcely  anybody  seems  to  live  in  them,  and  as  for 
Uncle  and  i,  we  were  the  only  travellers  in  the  town, 
which  can  boast  of  two  small  hotels,  two  wheeled  vehi- 
cles, and  two  guides.  As  to  these  last,  we  chose  the 
little  boy  who  spoke  a  little  French,  and  by  dint  of 
physical  as  well  as  moral  suasion,  succeeded  in  driving 
off  his  rival,  the  great  man  who  spoke  a  great  deal  ot 
Italian.  Now,  as  we  had  taken  sides  with  the  little 
guide,  we  determined  to  fight  his  battles  all  through ; 
so  when  he  advised  us  to  take  the  frescoed  omnibus,  we 
did  so,  although  the  man  with  the  rickety  carriage,  and 
the  big  Italian  guide,  followed  us  all  the  way  from  the 
station  up  to  the  town,  pelting  us  with  I'  alian  sen- 
tences. A  porter  now  joined  them,  adding  his  voice 
to  theirs  in  praise  of  the  new  hotel,  but  ou/  little  guide 
recommended  the  old  one,  so  there  we  hastened.  Whole 
suits  of  apartments  were  at  our  service,  but  we  content- 
ed ourselves  with  the  dining-hall,  a  long,  frescoed,  car- 
peted room,  with  a  fireplace,  in  which  we  burnt  bundle 
after  bundle  of  faggots,  to  the  surprise  of  all  the 
household ;  and  two  queer  little  bed-rooms  with  fres- 
coed bed-posts,  which  Uncle  and  I  occupied  respect- 
ively. 

The  hill  above  Assisi  is  crowned  with  a  splendid  old 
ruined  castle,  where  we  stood,  and  sat,  and  walked  for 
a  long  time  one  afternoon,  waiting  for  the  sun  to  set  on 
the  vast  mou;  tain-girded  plain,  in  the  midst  of  which 
rose  the  great  church  and  dome  of  the  Portiuncula.  We 
waited  and  waited  in  the  wind,  but  the  sun  v/ould  not 


11  i 


i68 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


go  down,  until  finally  we  had  to  go  down  instead,  leav- 
ing him  lingering,  lingering— O  so  long!  just  over 
the  verge  of  the  mountains,  as  if,  like  a  spoiled  child, 
he  did  so  hate  to  go  to  bed ! 


Ill 


XXI.    . 

CHRISTIAN    ROME. 

rUMIGATION — THE  PANTHEON — ST.  PETER's — THE  CURTAIN  LIFTED — 
AFTER-THOUGHTS  —  ASCENDING  —  BIRD's-EYE  VIEW  OF  THE  VATI- 
CAN— THREE  PICTURES — MANY  SIATUES— A  VISIT  TO  POPE  PIUS  IX. — 
THE   CATACOMBS. 


It  was  late  at  night,  and  we  had  had  a  long  railroad 
ride  from  Assisi,  when  I  was  roused  from  a  nap  by  the 
whistle  of  the  engine,  and  I  heard  the  guard  roar  out 
"  Roma  !  "  We  were  wide  awake  in  an  instant,  but  had 
very  little  time  to  feel  those  strange  emotions  that 
iiiost  people  have  on  entering  the  "  Eternal  City." 

We  soon  found  ourselves  and  our  baggage  in  the 
centre  of  a  large  room  that  was  very  choky  and  smoky, 
where  the  gentlemen  were  all  making  faces  and  the 
ladies  were  holding  pocket  handkerchiefs  to  their  noses. 
The  cholera  was  prevailing  in  Italy,  and  every  one  who 
entered  Rome  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  process  of 
being  fumigated. 

When  we  were  let  out  into  the  fresh  air  we  had  to 
pass  between  a  double  file  of  hotel  porters  gesticulating 
and  snapping  their  fingers,  Italian  fashion,  before  we 
could  find  the  omnibus  we  wanted.  As  we  drove 
through  a  broad,  well -paved  street  with  brilliantly- 
lighted  shops  on  either  side,  I  asked  myself,  "  Is  this 
Rome  or  New  York?"  I  was  not  long,  however,  in 
finding  an  answer.  We  soon  passed  an  old  fountain, 
then  down  a  dark,  narrow  street,  and  through  an  open 
square,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  lamp,  lighting  up 
8  (169) 


170 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


two  blackened  stone  horses,  nobly  carved,  and  each 
held  by  a  figure  equally  discolored.  Then  we  drove 
up  and  down  more  slippery,  crooked  streets,  with  here 
and  there  little  shrines  of  the  Madonna  at  the  corners 
of  the  houses,  and  sometimes  votive  lamps  hanging  in 
front  of  them.  We  were  surely  in  Rome,  not  New 
York. 

We  finally  stopped  in  a  square,  in  the  centre  of  which 
was  an  old  Egyptian  obelisk,  supported  on  the  back  of 
an  elephant.  Presently  we  were  escorted  into  the  hotel 
and  up  to  our  rooms  through  winding  passages,  v  here 
the  nooks  and  corners  were  filled  with  pieces  of  ancient 
statuary  We  were  in  the  old  palace  of  the  Conti 
family,  now  used  as  a  hotel ;  but  before  we  had  been 
long  there,  we  would  willingly  have  given  up  the 
privilege  of  dwelling  "  in  marble  halls"  for  a  cosy  little 
room  with  a  good  Yankee  stove,  and  no  cracks  under 
the  doors  and  windows. 

But  who  would  mind  all  the  discomforts  in  the  world 
when  Rome  was  to  be  seen,  and  the  Pantheon  was 
next  door?  When  we  stood  within  its  great  round 
walls,  the  entire  roof  of  the  building  rising  into  a 
mighty  dome,  I  thought  how  like  a  vain  boast  it  must 
have  sounded  wher  Michael  Angelo  said,  "  I  will 
lift  the  Pantheon  in  the  air  ;  "  for  it  seemed  difficult  to 
conceive  of  anything  larger  or  grander,  unless,  perhaps, 
the  blue  vault  of  Heaven  seen  through  the  round  open- 
ing overhead.  But  wait !  Michael  Angelo's  embodied 
conception  is  within  reach,  and  we  hasten  towards  it 
with  enthusiastic  eagerness. 

How  true  it  is  that  we  can  seldom  appreciate  at  the 
first  glance  great  works  of  art,  especially  in  architecture, 
when  all  the  parts  are  in  perfect  proportion  ;  it  seems 
as  if  the  mind  had  to  gradually  grow  up  to  them. 

We  were  in  Rome  a  month  and  visited  St.  Peter's 


III 


ill 


id 

it 


Castle  of  San  Ancklo. 


Face  p.  170. 


CHRISTIAN  ROME. 


\J\ 


about  every  tliird  day,  yet  I  saw  it  over  and  over  again 
before  I  began  to  realize  how  grand  it  was.  The  first 
time  I  lifted  the  heavy  curtain  and  stepped  in,  I  was 
more  surprised  than  impressed.  It  was  so  different 
from  wiiat  I  expected,  and  yet  I  hardly  knew  what  I 
did  expect.  It  was  with  an  indescribable,  unreasonable 
kind  of  disappointment  that  I  found  my  vague  ideas 
of  something  wonderful  put  into  solid  stone — arches, 
columns,  and  floor.  At  the  second  visit,  now  that  St. 
Peter's  was  more  substantial  in  my  mind,  I  began  to 
realize  its  grandeur  in  a  general  way.  The  third  time 
I  examined  particulars  a  little  more.  To  begin,  it  is  true, 
with  a  very  insignificant  object,  the  holy-water  fount 
being  nearest  the  door,  soon  attracted  our  attention  ; 
it  was  supported  on  each  side  by  a  cherub,  apparently 
about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  infant,  but  when  near 
them  we  found  that  they  were  much  larger  than  full- 
sized  men.  When  we  stood  under  one  of  the  small 
side  domes  it  would  seem  for  the  moment  as  large  as 
the  central  one,  though  from  the  outside  of  the  church 
these  smaller  domes  were  entirely  hid  from  view.  In 
this  way,  by  noticing  and  comparing  one  thing  with 
another,  the  separate  parts  seemed  by  degrees  to  fit 
together,  and  to  grow  up  into  a  vast  and  magnificent 
whole  —  the  mighty  Cathedral  of  St.  Peter — whose 
lofty  design  could  be  ever  afterwards  grasped  and  ap- 
preciated at  a  glance,  even  by  the  crude  capacities  of  a 
young  truant  traveller. 

The  grand  altar,  which  stands  immediately  under  the 
dome,  is  covered  with  a  canopy  of  bronze  and  gold, 
resting  on  four  pillars  of  the  same  material.  When  I 
was  leaving  St,  Peter's  for  the  last  time,  I  turned  at  the 
door  to  take  a  farewell  view  of  the  church.  Looking 
through,  under  the  canopy,  to  the  far  end  of  the  choir 
I  could  see  the  great  bronze  chair,  supported  by  golden- 


1/2 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


mitred  Popes,  which  contains  the  relics  of  the  original 
chair  of  St.  Peter ;  and  directly  over  it,  the  rich-hued 
afternoon  sun  was  streaming  through  a  circular  window, 
on  which  was  a  white  dove  with  outspread  wings. 
From  where  I  stood  it  seemed  as  if  the  Holy  Ghost 
was  descending  in  the  midst  of  a  sunbeam. 

We  obtained  permission  to  visit  the  crypt  under  the 
church,  where  we  saw  the  tombs  of  the  apostles  Peter 
and  Paul,  besides  those  of  popes,  kings,  and  other  great 
personages.  I  remember  among  the  other  familiar 
names,  those  of  Charles  the  Pretender  and  his  family, 
of  England.  We  saw  a  queer  old  bas-relief  there  repre- 
senting Adam  asleep  and  Eve  just  springing  from  his 
side,  and  a  peculiar  image  of  the  Creator  standing  near. 
There  were  also  a  great  many  pieces  of  the  original 
church  that  stood  on  the  spot  before  the  present  St. 
Peter's  was  built,  parts  of  old  mosaics  and  frescoes,  and 
an  old  stone  image  of  the  saint,  from  which  the  bronze 
one  was  cast  that  stands  in  the  church  above,  and  whose 
toe  has  been  kissed  away.  Many  Americans  who  have 
visited  Rome  during  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years 

will  remember  with  pleasure  Dr.  S ,  a  professor  in 

the  Propaganda,  who,  during  his  long  residence  among 
the  Romans,  has  embellished  his  mother-tongue,  which 
is  English,  with  all  the  Italian  gestures  and  exclama- 
tions. This  untiring  friend  of  sight-seers  in  the  great 
city,  kindly  obtained  for  us  admission  into  that  tran- 
sept of  Si.  Peter's  which  was  partitioned  off  for  the  use 
of  the  last  Great  Council,  and  which  is  still  enclosed. 
He  showed  us  where  the  Pope,  Cardinals,  and  different 
bishops  were  seated,  and  also  the  balcony  for  a  few 
great  theologians,  and  for  others  who  were  not,  prop- 
erly speaking,  part  of  the  Council. 

Even  this  small  part  of  the  church  was  too  large  for 
the  human  voice  to  be  distinct'  ''  heard  throughout  it,  so 


CinUSTlAN  ROME. 


i;3 


they  were  obliged  to  put  up  a  second  and  inner  parti- 
tion, making  the  apartment  still  smaller  ;  and  we  could 
see  how,  when  the  Council  was  over,  and  the  Pope  pro- 


A 


The  Last  Communion  of  St.  Jkrome. 


174 


AROUND   THE   WCKLD. 


claimed  from  his  throne  the  doctrine  of  the  InfallibiHty 
it  was  caught  up  from  htM"ald  io  herald  until  heard  by 
the  immense  crowd  thronging  the  church. 

In  a  side  chapel  enclosed  with  this  transept  is  a 
monument  to  one  of  the  Popes,  by  Canova.  The  top- 
most figure  of  the  group  represents  the  Pope  kneeling  ; 
his  head  and  expression  are  magnificent.  Standing 
below  are  symbolical  figures,  and  at  the  foot  of  these 
are  two  lions  facing  each  other ;  these  last  are  the 
masterpieces.  One  lies  with  his  head  resting  on  his 
paws,  and  his  eyes  shut,  the  very  personification  of 
strength  and  grandeur — "  asleep."  The  other  is  "  watch- 
ing ;  "  the  eyes  distended,  seeming  fairly  to  glare  at 
you,  the  head  erect  and  eager,  the  paws  clutching  at 
the  marble  he  rests  on,  every  muscle  strained. 

Early  one  beautiful  morning,  we  ascended  the  dome 
of  St.  Peter's.  We  went  up  by  an  inclined  plane,  twist- 
ing round  and  round,  until  we  reached  the  top  of  the 
church,  when  we  were  obliged  to  stop  and  take  breath. 
The  roof  is  like  a  small  city  in  itself;  there  are  the 
countless  domes  of  the  side  chapels,  the  pavilion  which 
covers  the  great  bell,  and  the  houses  of  the  workmen 
who  are  constantly  employed  to  keep  everything  in  re- 
pair, besides  numerous  railings,  side  roofs,  and  channels^ 
which  must  have  been  constructed  with  a  great  deal  of 
care  and  invention  to  make  the  water  run  off  properlj\ 
After  we  had  explored  sufficiently,  we  began  to  ascend 
between  the  two  shells  of  the  dome,  by  a  broad,  easy 
walk.  Presently  we  turned  to  one  side  and  entered  a 
door,  finding  ourselves  in  the  little  gallery  that  runs 
around  the  interior  of  the  dome — we  were  looking 
down  into  the  church  at  the  Lilliputians  walking 
around  and  kneeling  before  the  altars.  After  satisfy- 
ing our  curiosity  by  examining  the  gigantic  flowers 
and  saints  around  us,  we  continued  the  ascent  of  the 


CUKISTIAM  ROME. 


175 


dome,   the  passage  becominj^  narrower  at  every  step, 
until  we  were  obliLjed  to  lean  over  to  one  side  as  wc 


walked,  for  the  inner  and  outer  domes  were  rapidly  ap- 
proaching each  other  as  we  neared  the  summit.     The 


fii 


II 


-  I 


« 


176 


AROUXD  THE   WORLD. 


last  part  was  ascended  by  means  of  little  zigzag  stairs. 
From  the  cupola,  we  counted  the  "seven  hills"  of 
Rome,  with  the  Coliseum,  the  Pantheon,  the  Castle  of 
St.  Angelo,  and  all  the  prominent  buildings  in  the  city. 
Beyond  we  saw  the  rolling  campagna,  dotted  with  the 
ruins  of  the  Claudian  aqueduct,  and  the  tombs  along 
the  Via  Appia,  and  still  further,  the  Alban  mountains 
bounded  the  western  horizon.  Just  beneath  us  lay 
the  Vatican  palace.  VVc  could  see  the  entire  plan  of 
the  building  as  perfectly  as  if  it  had  been  marked  out 
on  a  map ;  its  two  courts,  the  queer-shaped  corner 
with  the  private  apartments  of  the  oe,  the  library^ 
and  the  galleries  of  painting  and  ...Ipture.  That 
bird's-eye  view  helped  us  afterwards  to  find  our  way 
through  its  four  thousand,  four  hundred,  and  twenty- 
two  rooms,  though  even  then  it  was  a  bewildering 
maze. 

The  Capella  Sistina  is,  of  course,  the  place  to  study 
Michael  Angelo  as  a  painter;  my  great  attraction  for 
him  is,  however,  as  a  sculptor.  With  curious  interest  I 
examined  his  *'  Last  Judgment,"  crumbling  from  the 
walls  of  the  Capella — but  spell-bound  with  admiration 
1  stood  before  his  gigantic  conception  of  "  Moses," 
in  the  Church  of  "  St.  Peter-in-Chains." 

Of  all  the  rooms  of  paintings  in  the  Vatican,  there 
is  only  one  that  I  will  attempt  to  mention,  for  it  is 
small  enough  to  dwell  clearly  in  my  memory.  It  con- 
tains but  three  pictures  ;  Raphael's  "  Transfiguration," 
"  The  Madonna  di  Foligno,"  and  Domenichino's  *'  Last 
Communion  of  St.  Jerome."  These  three  are  a  host 
in  themselves ;  but  in  a  great  gallery  like  this,  one  be- 
comes too  restless  and  eager  to  remain  long  in  one  spot, 
thinking  that  perhaps  the  next  room  contains  some- 
thing still  more  beautiful. 

As  a  matter  of  course  we  stopped  in  our  weary  wan- 


CI/KISriAX  ROME. 


\77 


dcrings  through  the  halls  of  sculpture,  to  admire  the 
Laocoon,  to  discuss  the  (luestion  as  to  what  the  Apollo 
Belvedere  is  supposed  to  hold  in  his  left  luuul,  and  to 


The  Torso  ok  Hercules. 


i 


li 


li 


iii 


8* 


178 


AROUND   TUB.    WORLD. 


m    '<!l 


examine  and  wonder  at  the  Torso  of  Hercules.  But 
my  general,  impression  on  leaving  the  Vatican  was,  that 
they  had  dug  up  enough  old  statuary  to  have  com- 
pletely undermined  Rome  and  the  surrounding  coun- 
try. It  seemed  to  me  that  if  they  would  send  a  ship- 
load of  broken  arms  and  noses  to  America,  where  such 
things  never  grow  (unless,  perhaps,  an  occasional  Car- 
diff Giant  !)  they  would  be  better  appreciated  than  they 
are  at  Rome,  where  they  are  as  common  as  stones. 

Our  visit  to  the  museums  on  the  Capitoline  Hill  was 
another  treat  of  the  samr  kind.  There  was  the  Dying 
Gladiator  (who  must  be  dreadfully  tired  of  dying), 
Hawthorne's  Marble  Fawn,  the  Capitoline  Venus,  the 
colossal  old  river-personifications,  and  ever  so  many 
other  things  to  interest  us,  but  twice  as  many  more  to 
weary  us. 

Our  visit  to  the  Pope  was  quite  an  event  in  our  Ro- 
man life.     On  our  way  to  the  Vatican,  we  stopped  for 

Dr.  C ,  President  of  the  American  College  in  Rome, 

who  was  to  accompany  us. 

Gentlemen  go  in  full-dress,  but  clergymen  are  ex- 
pected to  wear  cassocks  and  the  large,  three-cornered 
felt  hats  worn  by  all  the  priests  on  the  continent.  La- 
dies dress  in  black  silk  and  black  lace  veils,  wearing 
neither  hats  nor  gloves.  Etiquette  also  requires  that 
the  carriage  and  horses  should  be  entirely  black. 

We  drove  round  to  the  back  of  St.  Peter's,  and  then 
into  the  court  of  the  palace,  through  a  large  gate-way, 
wh-^re  stood  some  of  the  Pope's  "  Swiss  Guards,"  with 
their  very  peculiar  uniform  of  red  and  yellow,  said  to 
have  been  designed  by  Michael  Angelo.  He  must 
have  meant  it  for  a  joke !  When  the  carriage  stopped 
before  the  large  double  doors,  we  entered  and  passed  up 
a  broad  staircase  to  the  floor  above.  Chamberlains, 
clad  in  crimson  satin,  ushered  us  into  a  room  with  a 


CHRISTIAN  ROME. 


179 


marble  floor,  wood-work  handsomely  carved,  and  oil- 
paintings  of  religious  subjects  hanging  on  the  walls. 


■yipiV-fiO"!!" 


■  ir'iiHiiiw" 

:.,.,..M,    i 


iiS 


m 


!:;! 


^liiil 


Here  we  were  requested  to  leave  our  wrappings.     We 
were   then    shown  into   a   long   hall   or   Loggia,  very 


i8o 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


richly  frescoed,  and  with  windows  looking  down  into 
the  court-yard.  Several  other  ladies  and  gentlemen 
were  also  waiting  for  an  audience. 

I  observed  one  characteristic  of  this  palace  which 
distinguished  it  from  all  others  I  had  seen.  Although 
everything  here  is  costly  and  durable,  artistic  and  beau- 
tiful, there  is  an  utter  lack  of  that  luxury  almost  inva- 
riably found  in  other  princely  buildings ;  there  are  no 
deeply-cushioned  chairs  and  heavy  draper}^  no  soft  rugs 
or  tempting  divans,  but  all  seems  to  indicate  the  priest- 
ly dwelling.  I  was  told  by  those  who  had  seen  the 
private  rooms  and  offices  of  the  Pope,  that  they  are 
still  more  simple  and  unpretending. 

After  waiting  some  time  in  the  Loggia,  one  of  the 
chamberlains  drew  aside  a  curtain  at  the  end  of  the 
hall  and  announced  the  Holy  Father.  We  all  knelt 
down,  and  Pius  IX.  entered,  accompanied  by  his  cardi- 
nals. He  first  addressed  a  lady,  whom  he  appeared  to 
know ;  he  smiled  and  called  her  his  Canoness,  and  then 

they  spoke  together  in  a  business-like  way.     Dr.  C 

said  she  was  asking  some  special  favor  for  a  charitable 
institution  in  which  she  was  interested. 

As  the  Pope  approached  us,  surrounded  by  all  the  asso- 
ciations connected  with  his  long  and  blameless  career,  his 
snowy  locks  blending  with  his  soft,  white  cassock,  and 
his  benignant  countenance  lighted  by  his  bright  Italian 
eyes,  his  presence  created  an  impression  that  must  al- 
ways remain  a  beautiful  and  venerable  picture  in  my 
memory. 

He  recognized  Dr.  C immediately,  and  when  we 

had  kissed  his  ring,  stood  talking  with  us  for  several 
minutes,  partly  in  French  and  partly  in  Italian,  which 
our  friend  translated  for  us.  The  Holy  Father  told  us 
that  he  was  very  fond  of  his  American  children, 
and  seemed  pleased  when  we  showed  him  the  med- 


! 


ClfRISTIAN  ROME. 


I8l 


we 

leral 

liich 

us 

ron, 

led- 


als  and  crosses  vvc  had  brought  to  be  blessed  for  our 
friends  in  the  United  States.  While  he  was  speaking 
to  the  others  who  were  waiting  to  see  him,  Uncle  had 


|i 


!    I 


Laocoon. 


1 82 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


quite  a  long  talk  with  Cardinal  Barnabo,  who  is  entrust- 
ed with  the  superintendence  of  ecclesiastical  affairs  in 
America. 

The  Pope  then  said  a  few  words  to  us  all,  and  gave 
us  his  benediction.  As  he  was  leaving,  he  turned  to 
me  and  said,  "  Addio,  cara  mia."  I  understood  enough 
Italian  to  know  what  that  meant. 

Dr.  S ,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken,  kindly 

offered  to  guide  Uncle  and  me,  with  three  others, 
through  the  Catacombs  of  St.  Calixtus.  We  failed  to 
meet  him  at  the  appointed  time,  and  after  waiting 
for  us  a  little  while,  he  had  gone  on  with  his  other 
friends.  These  catacombs  are  about  two  miles  from 
Rome,  on  the  Via  Appia,  and  we  drove  hurriedl>-  out, 
hoping  to  overtake  him.  We  stopped,  as  directed,  by 
a  ruined  gateway,  and  walked  across  a  field  until  we 
came  abruptly  to  a  pair  of  stairs  going  down  into  the 
ground.  At  the  foot  of  these  we  found  an  old  man, 
left  to  watch  for  us,  who  gave  us  each  a  lighted  taper, 
and  showed  us  the  way  to  the  other  party.  We  found 
them  in  a  very  small  chamber,  whose  walls  and  ceiling 
were  covered  with  rude  fresco.  By  the  light  of  their 
flickering  tapers,  we  could  see  how  eagerly  attentive 

they  were  to  every  word  and  motion  of  Dr.  S ,  who 

stood  in  the  centre  pointing  to  the  queer  emblems, 
gesticulating  in  a  lively  ma:mer,  and  saying,  "  Do  you 
see  that?  eh  !  What  do  you  suppose  that  means?  eh  ! 
eh  !     Let  us  translate  !  " 

Whether  the  Doctor  expected  these  questions  to  be 
answered  or  not,  it  was  difficult  to  say.  At  any  rate, 
none  of  the  party  attempted  to  do  so  except  myself. 
When  he  would  call  our  attention  to  some  rude,  almost 
unintelligible  symbol,  and  turning  suddenly  round  upoD 
us,  say, 

"There!  what's  that?  eh!  eh!"  '^ 


CHKISTIA.V  ROMP. 


T83 


"A  fish!"  I  would  call  out  excitedly,  and  then 
frightened  at  the  sound  of  my  own  voice,  shrink  behind 
the  others. 

"  Si !  si !  just  so,"  the  Doctor  would  exclaim  delight- 
edly, if  I  happened  to  guess  right ;  but  woe  to  me  if  I 
made  a  mistake.  • 

Thus  in  his  odd,  but  animated  way,  our  learned  anti- 
quarian friend  told  us  a  great  many  interesting  things 
about  the  new  excavations  that  are  constantly  going 
on,  explained  the  emblems  and  frescoes,  and  gave  us 
his  theory  about  the  sand-pits,  and  the  origin  of  the 
catacombs.  He  had  made  them  the  study  of  his  life, 
and  was  as  much  at  home  undercfround  as  above.  He 
seemed  to  know  every  turn  by  heart,  and,  in  fact,  led 
us  a  wild  chase  through  those  dark,  narrow  passages, 
twisting  in  every  direction,  and  darting  into  an  opening 
here  and  out  again  there,  until  we  were  completely  out 
of  breath  trying  to  keep  up  with  him.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  gleam  of  his  taper,  we  would  several  times  have 
lost  track  of  him  completely.  Once  he  stopped  sud- 
denly and  told  us  that  we  were  five  stories  under 
ground.  We  had  been  descending,  almost  unaware, 
ever  since  we  started,  sometimes  by  gentle  inclinations, 
and  again  by  odd  little  stone  stairs. 

When  we  came  up  from  the  catacombs,  it  was  in  an 
entirely  different  place  from  the  one  where  we  entered. 
It  was  quite  dark,  the  sun  had  set,  and  damp,  unhealthy 
vapors  were  rising  from  the  campagna.  The  visit  was 
so  interesting  that  we  had  spent  hours  instead  of  min- 
utes, as  we  supposed,  among  the  early  Christians. 


'>ll 


XXII. 

BEGGARS,    BEAUTIES,   AND   BONES. 

*'  KING  OF  THE  ROMAN  BEGGARS  "  —  MORRO  —  BARBERINI  PALACE- 
BEATRICE  CENCI  —  CHURCH  OF  THE  CAPUCHINS  —  A  GHOSTLY 
RETREAT. 

"  Beppo  is  dead  ! "  Such  was  the  sad  news  we 
heard  on  inquiring  for  that  worthy.  Beppo,  "  King  of 
the  Roman  Beggars,"  is  no  more.  His  numerous 
friends  in  all  parts  of  the  world  will  be  sorry  to  hear 
that  the  crooked,  little,  old  man  is  no  longer  seen  sit- 
ting in  state  on  the  steps  of  the  Piazza  di  Spagna — like 
some  misshapen  idol — receiving  the  offe  -ings  of  trav- 
ellers. Beppo  kept  a  bank  for  the  conv  lience  of  his 
mendicant  subjects,  and  rode  home  every  evening  on  a 
donkey  led  by  a  small  boy.  "  They  say  "  he  gave  a 
grand  ball  occasionally  among  the  ruins  of  Roman 
temples.  When  such  an  event  took  place,  the  beggars 
from  all  parts  of  the  city  assembled,  on  the  invitation 
of  King  Beppo,  to  have  a  great  jollification. 

"  Some  in  rags, 
Some  in  tags, 
And  some  in  velvet  gowns." 

Although  we  did  not  see  Beppo,  there  were  a  number 
of  "  models  "  lounging  on  the  steps  of  the  Piazza  di 
Spagna  waiting  for  the  artists  to  come  and  engage 
them  to  sit  for  their  pictures.  We  saw  the  Italian 
brigands,  coquettish  peasant  girls,  and  little  musicians, 
all  of  whose  costumes  are  nearly  as  familiar  to  us  in 
(184) 


BEGGARS.  BEAUTIES,  A. YD  BONES. 


185 


America  from  pictures,  as  they  are  here  in  reality.  We 
happened  to  pass  them  just  at  lunch  time,  and  I  must  say 
♦■he  brigands  did  not  look  very  ferocious  or  the  maidens 
very  bewitching,  as  they  sat  munching  chunks  of  sour 
bread.  Others  who  had  satisfied  their  appetites  were 
playing  Morro,  the  very  same  game  with  which  the 
Roman  soldiers  used  to  amuse  themselves  centuries 
ago.  Two  men  stand  opposite  to  each  other  with  their 
fists  closed.  At  a  given  signal  they  both  throw  open 
a  certain  number  of  fingers,  and  at  the  same  instant 
each  guesses  what  number  the  other  has  opened.  They 
play  it  rapidly  and  become  very  expert,  telling  by  the 
slightest  movement  of  the  hand  the  fingers  about  to  be 
thrown  out.  A  few  baiocchi  are  always  at  stake,  and  an 
umpire  stands  by  to  settle  all  disputes.  The  players 
become  very  much  excited  over  it,  almost  jumping  at 
each  other  as  they  throw  out  their  fingers,  their  eyes 
sparkling,  and  yelling  out,  **  Due !  cinque!  quatro!" 
Their  appearance  presents  an  odd  mingling  of  the  pic- 
turesque and  the  ridiculous.  In  spite  of  their  flowing 
cloaks  and  handsome  faces,  they  suggest  the  idea  of  two 
fighting  cocks  just  about  to  attack  each  other. 

Of  all  the  smaller  art  galleries  of  Rome,  I  was  most 
charmed  with  that  of  the  Barberini  palace.  Uncle  and 
I  were  particularly  pleased  with  one  large  room,  the 
entire  ceiling  of  which  was  frescoed  by  Pietro  da  Car- 
tona.  The  principal  subject  was  the  ''Wars  of  the  Gods 
and  Titans,"  and  all  of  the  figures  were  large.  It  was 
a  wonderful  specimen  of  fore-shortening ;  indeed  you 
could  scarcely  believe  that  their  gigantic  limbs  did  not 
stand  out  from  the  ceiling — like  carvings  or  sculpture. 

The  room  adjoining  this  contained  statuary,  and  it 
was  there  that  I  saw,  for  the  first  time,  a  veiled  figure 
in  marble.  I  had  not  thought  it  possible  that  the 
features  of  the  face  could  be  so  distinctly  represented 


■i 


i86 


AROUND   J  HE  WORLD. 


through  a  veil ;  this  appears  to  fall  loosely  and  grace- 
fully over  the  head  and  shoulders.  We  were  both 
diverted  from  this  work  of  art  by  a  still  more  attractive 
one — *' Diana  Asleep."  Imagine  a  beautiful  vvoman, 
light  and  graceful,  with  a  small  crescent  glistening  in 
her  hair,  a  short,  girded  tunic,  and  sandals  laced  almost 


Beatrice  Cenci.    By  Gu.do. 


to  the  perfectly-formed  knee,  who  has  been  chasing  the 
deer  through  the  moonlit  forest  with  her  bow  and 
arrow  and  her  hounds,  and  who,  exhausted,  throws  her- 
self down  on  a  little  knoll  of  grass,  with  one  arm 
thrown  gracefully  over  her  head,  and  falls  asleep.  All 
this  is  to  be  seen,  and  more  too,  in  that  exquisite  pro- 


BEGGARS,  BEAUTIES,  AND  BONES. 


187 


Auction  of  Bernini.  As  I  stood  gazing  and  gazing  at 
it,  I  could  almost  see  it  breathe,  and  it  led  my  thoughts 
•a  wilder  chase  than  the  lovely  goddess  herself  could 
have  ever  run. 

The  Barberini  picture  gallery  is  very  small  and 
choice,  but,  of  course,  the  great  gem  is  Guido's  "  Beatrice 
Cenci,"  of  which  we  see  so  many  copies.  It  is  only  the 
hcd  of  a  young  girl  looking  over  her  shoulder,  and 
wearing  a  large  white  turban,  with  a  few  stray  brown 
■curls  escaping  from  under  it.  But  O,  such  a  sad  face  ! 
it  followed  me  for  days ;  wherever  I  went  I  could  see 
those  touchingly  weary  young  eyes,  longing  for  pity  and 
sympathy,  and  yet  seeming  to  shrink  from  one  as  if  in 
dread  of  a  harsh  look.  I  could  never  pass  the  old 
Cenci  palace  without  imaj^ining  I  saw  the  beautiful 
"  Beatrice  leaning  over  the  stone  balcony,  or  sitting  in 
some  of  those  dark  windows.  Afterward  it  seemed  like 
a  profanation  to  have  painted  some  of  those  copies  that 
stared  at  us  from  the  shop  windows.  Sometimes  the 
white  turban  and  brown  curls  belonged  to  the  face  of  a 
mischievous  coquette,  then  again  it  was  a  red-eyed 
child-face,  that  suggested  no  more  than  a  tumble  down- 
stairs, perhaps,  and  a  cry  after  it. 

A  magnificent  portrait  of  tho  mother  of  Beatrice 
Cenci  hung  near  that  of  the  daughter.  It  was  one  of 
those  very  dark  pictures,  the  light  falling  only  upon 
one  cheek,  all  the  rest  in  shadow.  There  was  a  great 
resemblance  in  their  features,  but  Beatrice's  sorrowful 
face  was  in  striking  contrast  to  her  mother's  bright, 
cheerful  expression ;  it  made  me  think  that  the 
daughter,  too,  seemed  more  capable  of  smiles  than 
tears,  if  her  life  had  been  more  natural. 

Not  very  far  from  the  Barberini  palace  is  the  church 
and  convent  of  the  Capuchin  Friars.  On  entering  the 
church  we  were  met  by  a  bare-footed  friar,  who  showed 


I 


I 


II!:     Ill       |i 


1 88 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


US  the  famous  "St.  Michael"  of  Guido  Reni,  and  then  led 
us  down  into  the  burying-ground  under  the  building. 
Here  was  a  sight  to  make  one  shudder.  The  friar  told 
us  that  the  soil  used  here  had  been  brought  from  the 
Holy  Land,  and  therefore  it  was  considered  a  great  priv- 
ilege to  be  buried  in  it.  In  order  that  each  of  the  com- 
munity shall  have  the  benefit  of  it,  this  is  the  way  they 
manage.  When  one  of  the  friars  dies,  the  body  that 
has  been  buried  longest  is  removed,  and  the  new-comer 
put  in  its  place.  As  this  has  been  going  on  for  years  and 
years,  a  marvellous  number  of  bones  are  accumulated. 
These  have  been  arranged  in  the  most  artistic  manner; 
the  walls  are  lined  with  skulls,  placed  tier  above  tier,  the 
teeth  and  the  holes  for  the  eyes  and  noses  making 
quite  an  ornamented  surface.  These  skulls  are  four  or 
five  deep — that  is,  they  stand  out  about  a  foot  and  a 
half  from  the  walls.  Here  and  there  pointed  niches  are 
formed  by  them,  in  each  of  which  stands  an  entire 
skeleton  of  a  friar,  even  to  the  fingers,  toes,  and  some- 
times beard,  dressed  in  his  brown  habit,  and  grinning 
most  horribly.  We  saw  some  bony  tables,  on  which 
were  bony  candlesticks,  containing  lighted  candles,  and 
at  intervals  bony  lamps  were  suspended,  made  carefully 
and  delicately,  like  rustic  work,  of  the  smallest  bones. 
The  ceiling  was  covered  with  stars,  hearts,  anchors,  and 
other  symbols,  made  like  the  lamps,  with  great  skill. 
In  the  midst  of  all  these  horrors  one  could  not  but  feel 
saddened  at  the  sight  of  two  skeletons  of  little  children 
fastened  up  near  the  door.  They  were  princes  of  the 
Medici  family,  who  had  been  dedicated  to  the  priest- 
hood, or,  for  some  reason  of  the  kind,  were  buried  here^ 
and  their  turn  having  come  to  be  removed,  their  bones 
were  placed  where  we  saw  them. 

Perhaps    the   good    monks   make  very   wholesome 
meditations  in  this   ghostly  retreat ;  as  for  myself,  the 


BEGGARS,  MF.AUTTES,  AND  BONES. 


189 


green  graves  in  a  cemetery,  with  the  trees,  birds,  and 
flowers  all  around,  would  be  more  hkely  to  suggest  good 
thoughts. 


II 


XXIII. 


A  LETTER  TO  THE  CONVENT. 


SAINT  FRANCIS  AND  SAINT  CLARA  IN  CONNECTION  WITH  ASSISI  — 
SHRINES  AT  ROME  —  THE  CATACOMBS  ILLUMINATED  —  UNDER 
CHURCHES. 

Rome,  Dec  7. 

Dear  Clara: — I  have  been  waiting  till  now  for  a 
chance  to  write  to  you  about  some  places  that  I  think 
would  interest  you.  Of  course  you  have  heard  of 
Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,  but  I  don't  believe  you  know 
much  about  h''n — I  did  not  until  I  saw  his  home,  which 
is  at  Assisi. 

Let  me  see,  I  shall  have  to  begin  where  he  began — I 
mean  at  the  little  room  in  which  he  was  born.  It  was 
locked,  but  our  little  guide  showed  us  an  opening  where 
we  might  look  in.  It  has  been  turned  into  a  chapel. 
In  the  old  cathedral  is  the  very  holy-water  font  at 
which  he  was  baptized.  One  day  when  he  was  a  little 
boy,  he  was  praying  very  fervently  before  a  wooden 
crucifix — a  great  ugly  one,  which  is  still  kept  in  one  of 
the  churches — when  he  heard  our  Lord  speak  to  him, 
telling  him  that  the  church  was  falling  down,  and  he 
must  repair  it — meaning  spiritually  ;  but  the  little  Saint 
Francis  thought  the  old  church  must  be  tumbling  to 
pieces  sure  enough,  so  he  took  some  money  from  his 
father  without  saying  a  word  to  anybody,  and  started 
off  for  ^he  Church  of  St.  Damian.  The  sacristan  there 
would  not  take  it,  but  they  showed  us  the  window 
where  Saint  Francis  threw  it  in.  There,  too,  is  the  lit- 
(190) 


A  LETTER   TO   THE  CONVENT. 


191 


tie  corner  or  niche  in  the  wall  where  he  hid  when  his 
angry  father  came  after  him  to  get  his  money.  He 
must  have  found  him,  for  there  is  a  funny  old  fresco 
on  the  wall  representing  the  young  saint  getting  a  whip- 
ping. Wasn't  it  mean  ?  But  then,  he  did  seom  to  have 
pretty  free-and-easy  ideas  of  taking  his  father's  things, 
and  he  was  always  getting  into  scrapes.  He  was  some- 
times locked  up  at  home  because  he  took  all  the  bread 
he  could  lay  his  hands  on  to  give  to  the  poor,  and  be- 
cause he  loved  to  dress  in  rags  and  go  round  begging 
so  tlic  people  would  laugh  at  him.  Those  were  days 
of  great  luxury,  and  he  wanted  to  set  them  an  example 
of  poverty. 

Then  when  he  gathered  around  him  a  few  young 
men  as  followers,  they  used  to  go  up  to  a  cave  in  the 
mountain  just  behind  Assisi,  where  they  could  be  alone 
for  their  devotions.  There  they  lived  until  the  Bishop 
let  Saint  Francis  establish  the  Order  of  Franciscans,  and 
then  they  used  a  little  monastery  and  chapel  down  on 
the  plain.  When  our  guide  took  us  there  to  visit  it,  he 
showed  us  where  the  saint  received  the  Stigmata  (but  I 
think  he  was  mistaken,  for  that  happened  in  the  moun- 
tains), also  the  room  in  which  he  died.  The  small 
church  or  chapel  where  he  was  so  often  wrapt  in  prayer 
and  ecstasies,  now  stands  like  a  little  shrine,  frescoed 
by  Overbcck,  in  the  centre  of  the  great  Portiuncula,  a 
favorite  pilgrimage  church,  seen  for  miles  in  every  di- 
rection. And  finally  to  follow  Saint  Francis  to  his 
tomb,  we  visited  the  double  church  which  covers  it, 
and  the  famous  Franciscan  Monastery,  a  magnificent 
building  with  tiers  of  arches,  which  has  long  been  the 
glory  of  Assisi,  and  is  very  difierent  rrom  the  little 
cave  in  the  rock  where  the  saint  and  his  first  fol- 
lowers were  obliged  to  take  refuge. 

I  suppose  you  want  to  know  all  I  can  tell  you  about 


192 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


Saint  Clara,  your  patron,  whose  body  we  saw  at  Assisi. 
You  must  know  that  I  have  also  had  the  honor  of  pay- 
ing my  respects  at  the  tomb  of  my  saint,  Helena,  the 
mother  of  Constantine ;  and  since  I  have  gazed  in  awe 
at  the  colossal  statue  of  her  under  the  dome  of  St. 
Peter's,  and  the  reliquary  just  over  her  head  which 
contains  the  wood  of  the  true  cross  which  she  discover- 
ed ;  and  as  I  have  mounted  on  my  knees  the  Scala 
Santa,  which,  if  you  do  not  already  know,  was  brought 
by  her  from  the  house  of  Pontius  Pilate  at  Jerusalem — 
our  Lord  having  mounted  and  descended  it  during  His 
passion — I  feel  as  if  I  had  done  my  duty  as  a  namesake 
of  St.  Helena.  But  this  is  all  at  Rome,  and  I  was  going 
to  tell  you  about  St.  Clara  at  Assisi. 

She  belonged  to  a  noble  family  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  when  she  heard  of  Saint  Francis,  she  became  very 
anxious  to  join  him  and  devote  herself  to  the  poor. 
Under  his  direction  she  tried  to  establish  the  Order  of 
Poor  Claires,  as  they  are  now  called.  Her  family  made 
a  great  fuss  about  it,  and  troubled  her  a  good  deal,  but 
she  finally  succeeded.  Her  only  sister,  Saint  Agnes, 
wished  to  join  the  new  Order  too,  but  the  family  deter- 
mined to  prevent  this  at  any  rate.  So  when  they  went 
to  the  crmvent  and  found  she  would  not  return  with 
them,  they  tried  to  pull  her  away  by  force,  when,  ac- 
cording to  the  story  we  heard  on  the  spot,  she  be- 
came miraculously  heavy,  and  they  could  not  move 
her  an  inch — so  they  had  to  give  it  up. 

We  were  very  much  interested  in  going  through  the 
original  convent.  It  was  a  poor  little  place,  and  as  we 
drove  up  to  it,  we  saw  a  window  in  the  second  story 
that  had  been  closed.  On  the  boards  was  a  rude  paint- 
ing of  Saint  Clara  holding  up  the  Bles;>ed  Sacram.ent, 
and  all  the  way  down  the  wall  (right  on  the  outside  of 
the  house,  remember)  were  painted  the  startled  Sara- 


A  LETTER   TO  THE  CONVE.VT. 


193 


cens  tumbling  off  the  ladders  with  which  they  had 
climbed  up,  and  were  about  to  enter  the  convent.  That 
was  the  very  window  where  the  incident  occiv :  '.  In 
the  chapel  we  saw  a  number  of  relics,  among  >\\c\,  the 
monstrance  which  she  held  containing  the  Hcl;  Eu- 
charist, and  also  the  little  bell  with  which  she  used  to 
call  together  the  religious  (it  reminded  me  of  t^'e  "nov- 
ices' bell  "  at  Kenwood).  Then  we  visited  the  infirmary 
and  the  dormitory,  with  its  narrow,  bare,  brick-floored 
cells,  each  door  marked  on  the  outside  with  the  name  of 
one  of  the  original  band  of  nuns.  We  walked  down  the 
narrow  passage-way  until  we  found  "  Sister  Clara  "  and 
''  Sister  Agnes." 

There,  too,  was  the  old  refectory,  with  its  wooden 
tables  and  benches  all  crumbling  away,  and  the  pic- 
tures on  the  wall  faded,  so  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
distinguish  them.  One  of  them  represented  Saint  Clara, 
at  a  time  when  they  had  not  food  enough  for  a  meal, 
multiplying  one  loaf  of  bread  into  a  sufficient  quantity 
for  the  whole  community.  But  miracles  did  not  hap- 
pen every  day,  and  these  noble-born  maidens  suffered 
all  kinds  of  hunger  and  cold.  When  we  called  at  the 
modern  convent  in  Assisi,  the  good  sisters  sent  a  Bra- 
zilian nun  to  entertain  us,  supposing,  of  course,  that 
since  we  were  both  Americans^  the  meeting  would  be 
a  mutual  treat.  This  timid  little  Poor  Claire  did  not 
speak  English,  and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
our  nationality,  or  rather  hcmispherality,  was  not  suf- 
ficiently strong  to  cause  any  very  great  interest  on 
either  side.  However,  we  stumbled  through  a  conver- 
sation in  French,  and  she  showed  us  the  body  of  Saint 
Clara,  which  is  enclosed  in  a  crystal  case  under  the 
church  that  bears  her  name. 

But  when  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  tell  you  about 
Rome?     It  is  glorious.     Not  so  glorious,  however,  as 


194 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


to  make  me  want  to  be  left  here  at  the  Sacred  Heart 
on  the  Trinita  del  Monte  to  study,  while  Uncle  goes 
off  to  the  Holy  Land  and  Greece.  But  perhaps  he  will 
take  me  to  a  convent  in  France,  probably  Tours,  which 

Madam  H recommends  as  a  pleasant,  healthy  place. 

That  would  be  better.  But  then  to  be  left  among 
foreigner^ — O,  horrors  !  Besides,  there  would  be  some 
risk.  Uncle  thinks,  in  placing  me  here  at  Rome,  for 
this  Italian  government  is  so  uncertain,  that  the  con- 
vent might  be  broken  up  at  any  moment.  The  Jesuits 
have  already  been  driven  from  the  country.  Their 
headquarters,  the  Roman  College  (next  door  to  us 
here),  where  have  lived  such  holy  and  celebrated  men 
as  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Aloysius,  and  Cardinal  Bcllarmin, 
has  been  turned  into  public  offices  or  soldiers'  quarters^ 
and  we  were  not  permitted  to  see  their  rooms,  which 
have  been  considered  sacred,  and  visited  by  pilgrims 
all  these  years.  But  this  is  not  as  hard  as  sending  away 
the  nuns  from  their  cloisters  to  gain  a  living  as  they 
may ;  those  who  are  sick,  and  those  who  have  grown 
old  in  the  religious  life,  without  distinction.  The  insti- 
tutions here  of  different  countries  for  educating  priests 
and  missionaries  are  also  being  dispersed.  They  tell  us 
that  the  IrisVi  College  is  for  sale  now — I  can  not  guess 
what  pretext  the  government  will  give  for  taking  tJieir 
property — even  the  American  and  English  Colleges  may 
go  next ;  who  knows  ? 

We  heard  Mass  in  the  Catacombs  on  Saint  Cecilia's 
Day,  when  a  number  of  the  subterranean  passages 
and  chapels  were  illuminated — the  only  day  in  the 
year.  There  wc  knelt  on  the  bare  ground  close  to  her 
tomb,  the  little  excavated  chambers  being  crowded  by 
awed,  hushed  worshippers,  while  the  priest  murmured 
the  prayers  in  a  low  voice,  and  the  tapers  flickered  over 
the  relics  of  the  martyred  popes,  and  down  either  side 


■ 


A  LETTER   TO   THE  CONVENT. 


195 


of  the  long  galleries  lined  with  bodies.  Was  not  that 
taking  us  back  to  the  early  Christian  days?  But  no 
Roman  soldiers  came  stealing  down  from  the  daylight 
above  to  massacre  us,  only  more  bands  of  pious  worship- 
pers to  kneel  at  the  virgin-martyr's  tomb.  La»"cr  in  the 
day  we  went  over  to  the  Church  o"  Saint  Cecilia  in 
Trastevere,  and  saw  the  beautiful  statue  of  her,  by 
Maderno,  with  averted  face,  lying  dead  under  the  exe- 
cutioner's blow;  it  is  directly  under  the  high  altar; 
we  also  saw  the  little  bath-room  of  her  house, 
in  which  the  cruel  pagans  tried  first  to  suffocate 
her  with  vapor.  On  our  way  home  we  stepped 
into  the  Church  of  Saint  Agnes,  the  noble  Roman  vir- 
gin and  martyr.  Under  the  church  we  saw  the  marble 
floors  and  columns  of  the  rooms  in  which  she  was  ex- 
posed and  tormented,  when,  according  to  the  legend, 
an  angei  appeared  to  defend  her.  Over  one  of  the  side 
altars  in  the  church  above  is  a  statue  of  the  saint,  by 
B'^rnini,  I  think,  which  we  admired  very  much.  Uncle 
thought  that  the  artist  had  succeeded  in  holding  her 
permanently  in  one  of  those  fleeting  moments  of  rapt 
contemplation,  or  supernatural  vision  of  her  heavenly 
Spouse,  which  Cardinal  Wiseman  so  beautifully  de- 
scribes in  the  story  of  Fabiola. 

O,  dear!  now  that  I  have  begun  to  talk  about  under- 
ground places,  I  fear  I  shall  never  stop — Rome  is  full 
of  them.  The  very  next  day  was  Saint  Clement's  Feast, 
and  so  all  the  excavations  there  were  illuminated.  It 
was  not  v^ery  long  ago  that  they  discovered  under  the 
modern  church  of  that  name  (modern!  did  I  say?  It 
would  be  ancient  in  our  country),  the  old  original  church, 

full  of  bright,  clear  frescoes.    Dr.  S piloted  us  among 

the  smoking  candles  and  the  eager  crowd,  explaining 
them.  I  remember  a  very  distinct  one,  representing  a 
priest  vested  almost  exactly  as  they  are  at  the  present  day, 


196 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


saying  Mass  at  an  altar  with  candles,  altar-boys  and  all. 
It  was  painted  in  the  ninth  century,  if  not  much  earlier; 
so  you  see  there  is  no  possibility  of  any  modern  im- 
provements !  having  been  made  in  the  church  ceremo- 
nies for  ten  hundred  years  at  least.  But  do  not  imag- 
ine this  subterranean  church  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  the 
mystery.  Further  down  still  they  have  very  recently 
excavated  what  the  antiquarians  have  decided  to  be 
Saint  Clement's  house.  Think  of  paying  a  visit  to  the 
residence  of  the  fourth  Pope.  Not  very  far  from  this  in- 
teresting spot  is  the  Church  of  San  Gregorio,  with  the 
porch  in  front,  where  he  stood  and  blessed  Saint  Au- 
gustine and  his  fellow -missionaries  when  they  were 
about  to  leave  for  England.  You  must  tell  the  Aloy- 
sians  that  I  prayed  for  the  society  when  I  knelt  at  the 
tomb  of  Saint  Aloysius,  in  the  beautiful  Church  of  Saint 
Ignatius  here  at  Rome.  His  shrine  is  splendid,  by  the 
way,  all  made  of  lapis-lazuli  and  silver. 

I  would  like  to  send  you  the  old  Flavian  Amphithea- 
tre full  of  love,  but  there  are  so  many  holes  it  would  all 
run  out. 

Your  devoted  sister, 

Nelly. 


U 


XXIV. 
PAGAN    ROME. 

A   BLIND    GUIDE — A   MOONLIGHT   RIDE  THROUGH     RUINED     ROME — 

SIGHT-SEERS. 


One  of  the  odd  characters  v/e  met  in  Rome  was  an 
old  blind  man,  who  used  to  make  the  beds  sometimes, 
and  sweep  the  halls  in  our  hotel.  He  had  been  a 
servant  there  for  thirty  years  or  more,  and  had  become 
blind  by  some  accident,  but  he  was  so  attached  to  the 
place  that  they  let  him  stay  around  and  do  "  odd  jobs." 
One  day  he  asked  us  if  we  would  like  to  go  up  to  the 
observatory  of  the  hotel,  and  as  we  were  pleased 
with  the  idea,  he  led  the  way  through  irregular  pass- 
ages and  stairs,  of  which  there  were  many  in  the 
building.  It  seemed  strange  to  be  guided  by  a  blind 
man.  When  we  reached  the  top,  he  showed  us  the 
plants  he  took  care  of,  and  picked  us  each  a  beautiful 
flower  with  as  much  ease  as  if  he  saw  it.  I  think  he 
must  have  known  every  one  that  was  in  bloom. 

The  strangest  part  of  this  visit  was  when  he  pointed 
out  to  us  each  building  we  mentioned,  and  described 
its  position  among  the  multitude  of  housetops  stretch- 
ing around  in  every  direction,  just  as  a  man  would  who 
had  the  use  of  his  eyes.  We  were  wondering  why  we 
did  not  see  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  when  he  told  us  it 
was  hid  by  the  Pantheon,  which  was  much  nearer,  but 
that  by  stepping  out  on  the  roof  we  could  see  one 
side  of  it. 

Thr.^  evening  there  was  a  full  moon,  and  the  same 

(197) 


198 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


party  who  had  been  to  the  observatory  decided  to  take 
a  drive  through  the  city.  We  took  carriages  and  start- 
ed for  the  CoUseum. 

No  one  who  has  not  seen  it  can  imagine  how  much 
grander  Rome  is  by  moonlight  than  by  dayhght.  By 
the  former  one  sees  ancient  Rome,  with  all  its  associa- 
tions ;  by  the  latter  modern  Rome,  with  all  its  dirt  and 
rubbish. 

Some  one  in  the  carriage  is  saying : 

"  What  is  that  lovely  little  ruin  we  are  passing,  with 
the  three  columns  standing  out  from  the  walls,  and  the 
richly-carved  cornice?  See,  there  is  a  baker's  shop 
under  it." 

"  That  is  an  old  statue  of  Minerva  over  the  door — it 
must  be  her  temple,  where  the  noble  Roman  maidens 
used  to  come  and  spin  for  the  poor,  a  kind  of  ancient 
*  sewing  society.'  " 

Now  we  are  driving  through  the  Forum  of  Trajan, 
with  its  half-excavated  ruins.  There  is  a  column  rising 
higher  than  the  church  towers.  It  is  carved  from  base 
to  capital  with  the  victories  of  the  Emperor  Trajan, 
and  our  eyes  seek  the  top,  expecting  to  find  a  statue  of 
the  victor  himself;  but  no !  it  is  St.  Peter  holding  up  the 
keys  of  Heaven.  What  a  triumph  of  Christianity  over 
Paganism ! 

We  have  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  the  Coliseum 
through  the  narrow  street,  and  its  arches  are  rising  one 
above  another,  until  the  entire  building  stands  alone. 
We  are  in  the  centre  of  ancient  Rome,  surrounded  by 
ruins,  and  all  is  quiet.  We  leave  the  carriage  and  enter 
the  great  amphitheatre.  Armed  soldiers  are  pacing  up 
and  down  under  the  arches  to  protect  visitors  and  pil- 
grims, for  these  ruins  were  once  a  favorite  retreat  of 
robbers. 

We  walk  into   the  arena   and   stand  for  a  moment 


w 


p 
o 
a 


o 


PAGAN  ROME. 


199 


under  the  great  black  cross  in  the  centre,  where  we  can 
see  the  moonlight  streaming  through  the  ':racks  and 
broken  windows,  over  the  crumbling  seats  and  lighting 
up  the  shrines  of  the  Passion — that  indicate  another 
triumph  of  Christianity.  We  are  thinking  of  all  that 
has  happened  here,  when  one  of  the  party,  who  has 
been  studying  his  guide-book,  repeats  those  lines  of 
Byron  about  the  Gladiator,  which,  I  dare  say,  were  very 
effective  the  first,  and,  perhaps,  the  second  and  third 
times  they  were  quoted  in  this  place,  but  now  they 
bring  the  red-covered  book  too  vividly  to  mind. 

While  we  are  still  in  the  arena,  we  see  the  gleam  of 
a  torch  through  the  arches.  It  disappears,  and  for 
a  moment  there  is  only  the  moonlight,  then  again  it 
flashes  out,  and  this  time  higher  up.  At  last  it  appears 
at  the  top  of  the  building,  and  with  it  a  guide  and  a 
party  of  tourists.  The  same  guide,  with  his  piece  of 
burning  pitch,  scrambles  up  among  the  ruins  with  us. 
From  the  top  we  have  a  magnificent  view,  both  of  the 
interior  of  the  Coliseum  and  the  ancient  part  of  the 
city — the  Palatine  Hill,  the  Capitol,  and  all. 

We  are  once  more  in  the  carriages,  this  time  driving 
under  the  arches  of  Constantine  and  Titus,  believing 
ourselves  in  the  train  of  a  triumphal  procession.  We 
are  passing  along  the  Roman  Forum,  and  now  we  have 
reached  the  Mamertine  prison.  We  have  all  visited 
the  fearful  dungeons  before,  and  now  we  pass  it  with  a 
shudder.  There  is  the  Tarpeian  Rock,  and  the  Cap- 
itoline  Hill,  and  beyond  are  the  steps  where  Rienzi, 
Last  of  the  Roman  Tribunes,  was  stabbed. 

We  leave  all  these  and  are  once  more  driving  through 
the  narrow,  lava-paved  streets  of  the  city. 

We  have  stopped  before  the  beautiful  fountain  of 
Trevi.  A  commanding  statue  of  Neptune,  colossal  in 
size,  stands  in  a  shell  drawn  by  sea-horses,  and  driven 


200 


AROUND   THE  WORLD. 


by  tritons.  They  are  just  about  to  ride  over  a  cataract, 
and  the  liorscs  rear  back.  The  water  falls  into  a  basin 
surrounded  by  rocks,  piled  up  in  natural  confision.  The 
silvery  stream  fairly  dances  in  the  moonbeams.  Ac- 
cordini;  to  tradition,  whoever  drinks  of  the  fountain  of 
Trevi  will  return  to  Rome.  We  lift  some  of  the  crystal 
water  in  the  hollow  of  our  hands  and  drink,  hoping  the 
tradition  will  prove  true — then  drive  on. 

We  pass  under  Hilda's  Tower,  and  sec  the  statue  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin  on  the  top  with  the  lamp  burning 
before  it.  It  i'^  properly,  the  "Tower  of  the  Monkey," 
and  has  a  legc^.J  connected  with  it,  but  it  has  become 
so  identified  with  Hawthorne's  story  of  the  Marble 
Faun,  that  among  travellers  it  is  called  Hilda's  Tower. 

We  arc  on  our  way  to  St.  Peter's  to  see  it,  too,  by 
moonlight,  but  we  find  it  is  one  of  the  few  things  in 
Rome  that  look  best  in  the  daylight. 

We  then  turn  towards  the  hotel  once  more,  pass  the 
Pantheon,  and  stop  in  the  familiar  square  with  the  old 
elephant  and  the  obelisk. 

As  Rome  is  eternal,  so  it  would  require  an  eternal 
sight-seer  to  know  and  tell  of  everything  there. 

It  is  said  that  those  who  stay  a  week  in  Rome  think 
they  know  all  about  it ;  those  who  are  there  three 
months  believe  they  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  it ;  but 
those  who  spend  a  year  there,  find  they  have  only 
begun. 


XXV. 


NEAPOLITAN   SURROUNDINGS. 


OVERLOOKING  THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES — STILLNESS  OF  POMPEII — IlEAUTI- 
FUL  DWELLINGS  AND  ORIM  INHAIIITANTS — CAPRI — THE  BLUE  GROTTO 
— BAJA— VOLCANfC   REGIONS — "  ROUND  THE  WORLD,"   PERHAPS. 

Naples,  Dec.  22. 

Here  we  are  delightfully  lodged  on  the  bay  of 
Naples,  with  the  warm  sunshine  pouring  in  our  win- 
dows all  day.  I  can  see  old  Vesuvius  jniffing  away  in 
the  gentlest  manner  possible,  with  the  towns  of  Portisi, 
Resina,  Torre  del  Greco,  and  ethers,  nestle^'  as  com- 
fortably at  his  feet  as  if  such  a  thing  as  an  eruption  had 
never  taken  place  ;  while  in  the  distance,  at  the  entrance 
to  the  harbor,  I  can  trace  the  rugged,  though  graceful 
outlines  of  the  island  of  Capri,  and  all  around  are  nu- 
merous curves  and  high  promontories  of  the  coast, 
making  hundreds  of  little  havens  and  bays  within  the 
bay,  which  give  such  a  charm  to  this  place. 

I  can  hardly  realize  that  it  is  near  the  end  of  December, 
with  weather  equal  to  the  brightest  days  of  September. 
The  yellow  oranges,  now  ripening  among  their  dark, 
rich  leaves,  are  in  bright  contrast  with  the  withered 
branches  of  the  other  trees.  It  seems  strange  to  see 
the  beautiful  cactuses,  that  with  us  are  so  carefully  pro- 
tected in  hot-houses,  growing  everywhere  here  like 
common  weeds. 

Our  first  excursion  from  Naples  was  to  Pompeii, 
which,  I  assure  you,  is  well  worth  a  long  trip  to  see. 
Q*  (201) 


I 


II 


PI  I    nj^awwr^"!     ■'.'■'If* 


202 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


'I"h(;rc  you  have  a  real  little  Roman  city,  just  as  it  was 
in  ages  past,  and  if  the  roofs  were  on  the  houses,  and 
the  furniture  and  gems  of  art,  that  have  been  carried 


^i 


Ruins  ok  Pomi'eii. 


NIAPOLITAN  SUK/WUND/AGS. 


203 


off  to  museums,  were  put  back  in  their  places,  nothing 
could  be  more  complete.  In  Rome,  of  course,  you  see 
grander  and  more  imposing  ruins  in  the  Coliseum,  the 
Pantheon,  and  others,  but  they  are  mixed  in  and  jum- 
bled together  with  dilapidated  modern  houses,  dirty 
street^,  wretched,  importunate  beggars  and  screeching 
peddlers.  When  among  the  ruins  of  the  Palatine,  while 
your  mind  is  filled  with  thoughts  of  the  imperial  Caisars 
in  rustling  robes  and  brilliant  trains,  sweeping  through 
their  marble  palaces,  you  stumble,  perhaps,  across  a 
troop  of  the  most  miserable  specimens  of  humanity  at 
the  heels  of  some  poor,  bewildered  tourist  with  the  red 
book  in  his  hand  (all  guide-books  are  red,  you  must  re- 
member), who  is  trying  to  study  out  between  the  mys- 
terious hints  of  the  guide  and  the  mass  of  fragments 
before  him  which  is  the  Atrium  and  which  the  Tricli- 
nium, or  whether  this  is  supposed  to  be  the  temple  of 
Jove,  or  that  other  pile  of  rubbish  with  its  patch  of  beau- 
tiful mosaic.  At  Pompeii,  it  is  very  different ;  it  is  al- 
most painfully  quiet,  except  a  faint  murmur  from  the 
distance,  where  the  workmen  are  continuing  the  exca- 
vations. Such  a  strange  sensation  creeps  over  you  on 
hearing  your  own  footsteps  in  those  deserted  streets — 
you  feel  that  you  arc  in  the  city  of  the  dead.  You  do 
not,  as  I  supposed,  go  under  ground  to  see  it,  though 
the  level  of  the  land  directly  around  is,  of  course,  as 
high  as  the  tops  of  the  houses,  being  a  hill  made  by  the 
ashes,  stones,  and  lava  of  the  eruption.  PVom  the  ram- 
parts there  is  a  beautiful  view  of  Vesuvius  with  the  sur- 
rounding country,  and  the  sea,  which  originally  came 
close  to  the  walls  of  the  city. 

We  entered  by  the  road  of  the  Tombs,  lined  on  both 
sides  with  burying-places ;  we  saw  the  spot  where  the 
bodies  were  burned,  and  the  Columbaria,  or  places  for 
the  funeral  urns,  with  various  emblems  and  inscriptions, 


204 


AROUND   THE    WORLD. 


among  others,  the  tombs  of  the  gladiators.     As  we  en- 
tered the  arched  gate-way,  we  passed  the  sentry-boxes, 


where  skeletons  of  Roman  soldiers  were  found  standing 
at  their  posts,  faithful  and  stern,  amid  all  the  horrors 


NEAPOLITAN  SURROUNDINGS, 


205 


of  the  destruction  of  Pompeii.  Each  thing  we  saw,  or 
rather  the  whole  together,  was  so  strange  and  unnatu- 
ral that  it  made  an  impression  on  my  mind  never  to 
be  forgotten.  There  were  the  old  Roman  paving- 
stones,  with  uneven  "uts  made  by  chariot-wheels  eight- 
een hundred  years  ago,  with  stepping-stones  here  and 
there  fo.  ot  passengers.  We  visited  the  most  exquis- 
ite dwt  Liiig-houses,  with  floors  of  pictured  mosaic, 
walls  most  elegantly  frescoed,  fluted  columns,  and 
beautiful  fountains  of  sea-shells  and  inlaid  work  in 
the  courts.  All  is  wonderfully  fresh  and  well-pre- 
served. We  went  into  the  public  baths,  the  bar- 
ber's shop,  the  baker's,  and  the  wine  shop,  with  its 
dozens  of  immense  vessels,  in  which  three  men 
could  easily  conceal  themseivcs.  T  can  now  understand 
the  story  of  the  "  Forty  Thieves  "  who  were  hidden  in 
oil-jars ;  if  they  were  as  large  as  these,  I  think  the 
"Arabian  Nights"  stories  are  not  so  exaggerated  as 
one  might  suppose. 

There  was  a  very  beautiful  forum,  a  comic  and 
tragic  theatre,  and  many  temples ;  among  the  last,  a 
very  pretty  one  of  Isis,  celebrated  for  its  oracle.  They 
now  show  you  the  place  where  the  priest  concealed 
himself  under  the  all-powerful  goddess,  in  order  to 
deliver  the  wonderful  prophecies. 

We  were  introduced  to  some  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Pompeii  themselves,  with  money-bags  tied  around  a 
few  of  them — all  in  a  very  hardened  condition,  and 
grinning  most  horribly  at  all  surroundings.  There  were 
skeletons  of  horses,  dogs,  and  c^  ickens,  loaves  of  bread, 
and  vegetables — dried  most  decidedly. 

We  went  with  quite  a  party,  ).  he  other  day,  to  visit 
the  island  of  Caori,  in  a  small  excursion  steamer.  We 
expected  to  have  a  beautiful  viuw,  but  it  was  not  a 
pleasant  day,  and  rather  rough  on  the  water;  we  did. 


1'j 


206 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


however,  succeed  in  visiting  the  Blue  Grotto.  We  went 
\\\  very  small  row-boats,  but  the  entrance  is  so  low  that 
even  then  we  had  to  lie  down  in  order  to  get  in.  It 
was  a  wonderful  sight ;  the  v/?.^er  inside  was  of  a  bright, 
transparent  blue,  and  the  dark,  rocky  cavern  overhead 
made  the  effect  fairy-like  as  the  boat  glided  noiselessly 
around,  the  oars,  \vhen  in  the  water,  looking  like  silver. 
In  one  of  the  dark  corners  of  the  Grotto,  a  man  jumped 
in  and  swam.  It  had  the  strangest  effect  possible.  The 
only  way  that  I  can  describe  it,  is,  that  he  looked  like  a 
silver  toad  squirmin,^^  around  in  a  beautiful  blue  glass 
globe.  It  is  some  stiunge  refraction  of  the  light  that 
makes  the  color,  though  I  do  not  understand  it.  We 
all  took  dinner  at  a  hotel  kept  by  an  Englishman.  The 
table  was  set  cut  on  a  terrace  overlooking  the  bay,  but 
it  was  too  cloudy  to  see  Naples.  On  our  way  down  to 
the  steamer,  the  whole  village  turned  out  to  see  us  off, 
and  try  to  beg  a  few  baiocchi,  or  sell  sea-shells,  or  bits  of 
coral.  They  all  looked  very  ragged  and  poor,  but  there 
were  some  veiy  pretty  little  Italian  girls  among  them.. 
Though  these  people  are  poverty-stricken  and  wretched 
in  appearance,  they  are  \  cry  good-natured,  and  amused 
at  almost  anything.  I'hry  all  enjoyed  it  very  much 
when  a  little  dog,  belonging  to  one  of  the  ladies  of  our 
party,  chased  the  children  over  the  island  and  scattered 
them  in  every  direction. 

There  is  a  beautiful  drive  along  the  bay  tov/ard  Baja, 
a  favorite  summer  resort  of  the  old  Roman  Emperors 
and  nobles ;  there  are  ruins  of  their  villas  all  the  way. 
It  is  very  interesting  as  a  volcanic  country.  You  see 
lava  everywhere,  aid  numerous  extinct  craters.  We 
ascended  one  of  them,  Mount  Solfatara;  we  walked 
round  the  inside  of  the  crater,  and  the  ground  or 
crust  is  so  thin,  that  when  a  man  threw  down  a  heavy 
stone,    not   very   large,   it    sounded    hollow,   and   the 


NEA  POUT  A  JV  S  UI^R  0  UN  DINGS. 


207 


earth  shook  under  our  feet.  It  could  hardly  be  called 
extinct  either,  for  on  one  side  the  smoke  and  sulphur 
were  coming  up  all  the  time,  and  if  you  put  your  hand 
down  on  the  sand,  it  was  very  hot.  Sulphur,  I  suppose 
it  was,  had  made  the  rock  beautiful  with  brilliant  col- 
ors, and  one  of  the  men  got  close  enough  to  break  a 
piece  off  for  me.  This  crater  stopped  very  suddenly 
not  many  years  ago,  and  at  the  same  moment  another 
one  burst  forth  very  near,  and  formed  the  Monta  Knova, 
which  we  saw  too,  and  which  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it 
began.  We  drove  to  the  lake  of  Avernus,  whose  basin 
is  the  crater  of  a  still  older  volcano,  which  being  filled 
with  w'lter,  made  the  beautiful  lake  before  us.  Al- 
though I  have  not  yet  read  Virgil  (whose  tomb,  by  the 
way,  is  near  here),  I  have  heard  enough  about  his  de- 
scription of  Hell  to  be  interested  in  the  supposed  en- 
trance to  it.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  place.  On  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  water  is  an  opening  to  the  grotto  of 
the  Cumean  Sibyl. 

There  is  an  old,  vaulted  temple  A  Mcicury  near  by, 
with  a  strange  echo,  in  which  some  Italians  danced  the 
"  Tarantella,"  a  national  dance.  It  is  something  be- 
tween a  jig  and  a  fancy  dance  proper;  they  use  the 
tambourine  and  castinets ;  it  was  a  quaint  and  pictur- 
esque scene  in  the  old  ruined  temple. 

We  have  had  views  from  every  side  of  Naples ;  they 
are  all  very  fine.  In  the  museum  are  many  interesting 
things  from  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  and  some  beau- 
tiful ancient  statues,  the  famous  Hercules-Farnese  ana 
others. 

Uncle  went  up  Mount  Vesuvius.  He  thought  it 
would  be  too  hard  climbing  for  me.  He  says  it  was  a 
very  easy  ride  to  the  foot  of  the  cone.  He  went  with 
a  party  of  gentlemen,  and  when  they  reached  the  Her- 
mitage, they  had  a  rest  and  a  good,  hot  bowl  of  maca- 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 

roni.  The  cone  is  all  ashes,  and  so  steep  that  it  takes 
an  hour  to  go  up  and  about  five  minutes  to  come  down. 
Some  of  the  gentlemen  tried  to  go  alone,  but  were 
dreadfully  tired  out.  Uncle  took  one  man  to  pull  him 
up  with  straps,  and  another  to  push  him,  and  he  was 
the  only  member  of  the  party  who  did  not  come  back 
exhausted. 

I  am  happy  to  say  that  Uncle  has  given  up  the 
thought  of  leaving  me  at  a  convent  to  study,  and  says 
he  will  take  me  wherever  he  may  decide  to  go.  He 
has  now  taken  berths  on  a  <=^eamer  to  leave  Brindisi  the 
twenty-ninth  of  Dece.i!  .:  for  Alexandria,  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  we  go  home  by  way  of  the  Pacific 
and  California.  Uncle  thinks  the  sea  voyage  will  be  of 
service  to  him.  I  like  the  idea  of  "  going  round  the 
world,"  but  have  little  hope  of  catching  letters  from 
home  after  we  leave  Italy,  which  is  a  drawback  to  my 
pleasure. 


XXVI. 
FROM    BRINDISI   TO   ALEXANDRIA. 

URINDISI  ;  THE  HARBOR,  THK  HOUSE  OF  VIRGII,,  THE  APPIAN  WAY— 
THE  ADRIATIC;  THE  "HEEL"  OF  ITALY,  THE  OUTLINES  OF  GREECE 
— NEW  year's  eve  on  THE  BLUE  MEDITERRANEAN — HAY  OF  ALEX- 
ANDRIA— SCENES    FROM  AN   EGYPTIAN   WINDOW, 


Alexandria,  Ne%u  Year's  Day. 

We  arrived  here  this  morning  on  the  steamer  Ceylon, 
from  Brindisi.  1'he  railroad  ride  from  Naples  to  that 
port  was  dreadfully  tedious ;  we  had  to  rise  at  five  in 
the  morning,  and  it  was  half-past  ten  at  night  before 
we  reached  Brindisi.  We  found  it  a  most  forlorn  little 
place,  considering  what  it  must  have  been  in  the  old 
Roman  times,  when  it  was  the  principal  port  for  the 
East.  It  was  there  that  the  armies  of  the  Empire  em- 
barked, and  there  they  landed  after  their  conquests, 
laden  with  prisoners  and  spoils.  The  harbor  is  very 
fine,  consisting  of  an  inner  and  outer  bay  ;  the  first 
having  exactly  the  shape  of  a  triangle.  On  Sunday  we 
went  to  the  Cathedral,  which,  like  the  rest  of  the  city, 
is  decidedly  forlorn.  There  is  a  queer,  narrow,  dirty, 
crooked,  steep  -what  shall  I  call  it  ? — it  surely  does  not 
deserve  the  name  of  street ;  at  any  rate  it  took  us  to 
the  church.  On  the  way  we  passed  all  that  remains  of 
the  ancient  Brundisium,  a  building  which  is  said  to  be 
the  house  of  Virgil,  now  the  abode  of  a  washerwoman, 
and  near  it  two  columns,  one  very  high  and  beautifully 

carved,  the  other  in  ruins.     These  last  mark  the  ter- 

(209) 


cywTT,-  ;«;.'.•' .-iTT^.  Tmtsmnnmss^ 


210 


/i ROUND  THE   VVCRLD. 


minus  of  the  great  "  Appian  Way,"  which  begins  at  the 
triumphal  arch  of  Constantine  in  Rome,  and  continues 
along  the  coast  to  Baja,  where  we  saw  the  old  paving- 
stones  when  we  rode  out  there  from  Naples ;  it  then 
crosses  Italy  and  ends  at  the  two  beautiful  columns  I 
have  mentioned. 

The  steamer  Ceylon  arrived  on  Sunday,  and  early  the 
next  morning  we  were  moving.  For  a  long  time  we 
had  the  flat,  uninteresting  "  heel  of  the  boot  "  to  look 
.-t  on  'ur  right.  It  protected  us  from  the  waves,  how- 
ever, and  we  were  sorry  when  we  got  fairly  out  of  the 
Adriatic,  and  into  the  Mediterranean,  for  it  began  im- 
mediately to  be  very  rough,  and  the  boat  rolled  most 
unmercifully.  It  was  worse,  I  thought,  than  the  Atlan- 
tic, and  the  second  afternoon  I  retired  ingloriously 
from   the  upper  deck  to  my  cabin. 

Nearly  all  day  Tuesday  we  were  in  sight  of  Turkey, 
and  then  Greece,  and  great  interest  was  manifested — 
especially  by  the  gentlemen  —  in  distinguishing  the 
different  islands,  as  they  could  be  traced  out  against  the 
horizon. 

The  third  day,  Wednesday,  which  was  to  have  been 
the  last,  was  really  charming.  Instead  of  the  ugly 
wind,  and  gray,  dismal,  tossing  water  of  yesterday,  we 
had  the  true  blue,  blue  Mediterranean  sparkling  in  the 
sunshine,  and  a  soft,  warm  breeze  from  the  African 
coast.  No  land  was  in  sight,  but  everybody  was  on 
deck,  playing  games  or  enjoying  themselves  in  a  quiet 
way.  Some  happy  individual  was  bright  enough  to 
suggest  that  it  was  New  Year's  Eve,  and,  as  all  were  in 
good  spirits  (that  is,  not  sea-sick),  that  we  should  have 
an  impromptu  concert  on  deck.  *'  No  sooner  said  than 
done."  The  captain  had  the  quarter  deck  enclosed 
with  canvas  and  draped  with  flags — British,  Italian, 
Egyptian  .  the  piano  was  brought  up  from  the  saloon, 


FROM  BRIXDISI  TO  ALEXANDRIA. 


211 


and  we  had  a  very  interesting  evening.  There  were  a 
great  many  musicians  on  board,  both  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, some  of  them  very  sweet  singers,  so  the  music 
was  remarkably  fine,  and  the  rippling  of  the  water  along 
the  sides  of  the  vessel  made  a  beautiful  accompaniment. 
There  were  also  readings  and  recitations,  comic  and 
tragic,  prose  and  poetry.  I  recited  Longfellow's  **  Mid- 
night Mass  for  the  Dying  Year."  As  it  was  a  British 
ship,  the  entertainment  closed  with  "God  Save  the 
Queen." 

It  is  strange  how  soon  people  learn  to  know  each 
other  on  board  a  ship  ;  you  are  as  good  friends  after  a 
week  at  sea,  as  you  would  be  at  the  end  of  a  year  or 
more  on  land.  After  the  tiirce  or  four  (\;iy%  the  Ceylon 
passengers  spent  together  on  the  Mediterranean,  they 
were  sorry  to  part  at  Alexandria — some  to  go  up  the 
Nile,  some  to  Australia,  and  otiiers  to  India  or  Pales- 
tine. 

The  scene  in  the  harbor  here  at  Alexandria  is  some- 
thing 1  shall  never  forget.  How  some  boys  I  know 
who  love  ship-building  would  have  enjoyed  it !  There 
were  vessels  of  every  description — for  pleasure  and  busi- 
ness, passengers  and  freight — schoiJi;  rs,  yachts,  sailing 
vessels  of  every  kind  ;  among  them  the  graceful,  sweep- 
ing lateen  masts  and  sails,  steamboats  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes,  men-of-war — indeed,  it  would  take  a  more  expe- 
rienced sailor  than  I  am  to  name  them  all.  Then  the 
flags  of  many  countries  floating  at  the  sterns  and  mast- 
heads made  it  very  gay  aid  lively;  most  frequent  and 
most  beautiful  was  the  crescent  and  star  of  the  Arab 
countries. 

OmT  vessel  bad  scaff^cely  a;cfedK>red,  when  there  swarmed 
aa-ound  fromereiy  direction  tJaie  ro'v-boats  that  take  pas- 
sengers ashore.    From  this  moment  we  felt  that  we  were 

and  strange  world.    I  could  no 


i 


212 


AROUXD  THE  WORLD. 


I 


more  describe  the  various  costumes  of  these  boatmen, 
than  I  could  help  laughing  at  them.  Some  wore  the 
regular  turbans  and  baggy  knee-breeches  ;  others  wore 
dark-red  caps  with  black  tassels,  and  still  more  baggy- 
looking  gowns,  fastened  at  the  knee,  or  flying  loose  ; 
then  there  were  those  who  wore  the  most  baggy  gar- 
ments of  all,  with  peaked  hoods  or  cowls,  like  Capuchin 
friars.  Some  of  their  remarkable  disguises  looked  like 
night-gowns  sewed  up  at  the  bottom,  with  two  holes 
left  open  to  put  their  feet  through.  As  for  dirt — that 
is  not  the  name  for  it  ;  but,  fortunately,  these  fellows 
are  so  black  anyway,  that  one  does  not  notice  it  any- 
where but  on  their  clothes,  which  are  mostly  light- 
colored  or  white,  or  at  least  intended  to  be  so.  These 
arc  the  poor  people.  The  higher  classes  wear  very 
beautiful  dark  colors,  and  their  costume  is  rich  and 
graceful,  such  as  one  sees  in  pictures,  pointed  shoes 
and  all.  Some  of  them,  with  their  long,  white  beards, 
swarthy  faces  and  venerable  ai)iiearance,  take  one  back 
in  imagination  to  the  days  of  wonderful  Egyptian  priests, 
magicians  dealing  in  the  black  art,  fearful  genii,  and  all 
sorts  of  mysterious  people. 

Ah  I  look  down  from  my  window  into  the  narrow 
street  below,  I  can  see  all  these  costumes,  and  many 
more.  I  see  large  men  rirliiig  on  tiny  donkeys,  and 
thejr  feet  rearhing  almost  to  the  ground,  while  the 
sleek,  moiise-cnIorc/l  animals,  mnrh  mnxo  intelligent 
than  the  ICiiroptmn /^nnkeys,  pact;  i/|f/ng  with  wonder- 
ful rapidity.  I  see,  now  .'liid  (hen,  a  ctf//)el  coirif  wrtl- 
loping  alo/ig,  with  his  awkward,  .sea-ftlLkt/zin^  w»ilk,  aiirl 
some  ()i\l\  character  pttt'licd  upon  »he  suinmjl  //f  )M 
hum[)  in  the  /r^idst  of  /lUr/jicrous  buiidl<o  and  ba^a. 
Then  there  are  wome//  l////-/-y/fig  along  wHli  \\Mt  s^S\% 
wrapped  closely  around  th(  in  and  reachin{(  to  thti 
ground  ;   they  also  wear  another  small  black  vc'Jl  that 


J'ROM  BRINDISI  TO  ALEXANDRIA. 


213 


covers  the  lower  part  of  the  face,  generally  attached  to 
the  larger  one  by  a  gold  or  brass  ornament  resembling  a 
spool,  right  over  the  nose  ;  thus  their  eyes  are  the  only 
features  that  can  be  seen. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  my  impressions  of  this  strange 
people.  Our  dragoman,  who  has  guided  us  to  all  parts 
of  the  city-Pompey's  Pillar,  Cleopatra's  Needle,  the 
Catacombs,  the  Khedive's  Palace,  the  Bazaars  -showed 
us  a  queer  set  of  beads,  a  kind  of  rosary  called  a  com- 
boloio,  which  the  Mussulmans  use.  Friday  is  their 
sacred  day,  and  he  has  just  come  back  from  the 
mosque,  and  is  now  waiting  to  take  my  trunk  to  the 
cars.     We  shall  be  in  Cairo  to-night. 


XXVII. 
EGYPT 


i 

1      a 


A  WORLD  OF  WONDERS — PALM-TREES  —  SPRING  liN  THE  VALLEY  OF 
THE  NIL2 — ORANGES  EVERYWHERE  —  ARABS  AT  WORK  —  THEIR 
HOUSKS  —  DONKEY-BOYS,  COSTUMES,  SAIS  —  A  GREAT  MOSQUE  — 
CAIRO  IN  GENERAL  —  THE  PYRAMIDS  AND  SPHINX  AT  GHIZEH  — 
TOMBS   OF   THE   CALIPHS. 

Cairo,  Jan.  lo. 

I  THINK  that  Egypt  is  the  strangest  and  nn  ,t  inter- 
esting plrxe  that  can  be  imagined  ;  it  is  as  different 
from  Europe,  or  any  country  that  I  have  seen,  as  if  I 
had  made  a  journey  to  the  moon.  On  our  way  here 
from  Alexandria,  by  rail,  wc  passed  the  delta  of  the 
Nile.  The  land  was,  of  course,  fertile  and  flat,  and  for 
the  first  time  we  saw  palm-tree:;  growing  in  any  num- 
ber. By  the  way,  I  did  not  know,  until  the  other  day, 
that  dates  grew  upon  palm-trees  (green,  wasn't  I  ?),  still 
I  wondered  that  people  took  so  much  care  to  cultivate 
them  and  cultivate  so  many,  if  it  was  only  for  orna- 
ment, for  they  are  so  tall  and  slender  that  they  do  not 
give  much  shade.  I  have  a  much  better  opinion  of  the 
palms  now  that  I  know  they  yield  the  delicious  fresh 
dates,  which  are  as  plentiful  here  as  the  burrs  are  at 
"  Pine  Grove."  We  could  not  have  chosen  a  better 
season  for  visiting  Egypt ;  everything  is  beautiful. 
The  early  spring  crops  are  just  springing  up,  spread- 
ing a  green  carpet  along  the  valley  of  the  Nile  ;  the 
sugar-cane  is  now  ripe,  and  the  cotton  waiting  to  be 

picked,  while  the  trees  are  weighed  down  with  oranges. 

(214) 


EGYPT 


215 


They  arc  everywhere — on  the  tabic  at  each  meal,  at 
every  street-corner  arc  piles  of  them,  and  aIon<^  the 
road-side  one  sees  donkeys  and  camc's  in  long  lines 
laden  with  them,  bringin?,''  them  to  town.  No  matter 
where  wc  are,  indoors  cm  out,  on  foot,  in  a  carriage,  or 


J£uYi'TiAN  Woman. 


on  a  donkey,  taking  a  short  ride  in  the  desert  or  cross- 
ing the  river  in  a  ferry-boat,  there  are  always  plenty  of 
Arabs,  men,  women,  and  children,  who  are  ready  to 
give  us  a  whole  lap  full  of  sweet,  juicy  mandarin 
oranges   for   a   ha'penny   or   piastre,    as   they  call    it. 


.  %-  ? 


^%. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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y. 


A 


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IIII.25 


M    111115 


I  ^  Ilia 

1:  1^  12.0 


1.8 


lA  mil  1.6 


Pjmyy 


^ 


A 


A 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTEh,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  C72-<503 


A 


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A 


10 


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.  h.  '' 


2l6 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


Although  this  country  is  so  rich  and  verdant,  the 
people  who  cultivate  it  are  very  poor,  as  we  can  see 
by  their  wretched  appearance  and  the  miserable  little 
mud  villages  we  pass,  scattered  here  and  there  over  the 
ground. 

We  went  into  one  of  the  huts  the  other  day  to  sec 
the  Arabs  making  the  little  clay  water-jugs  that  are  so 
generally  used  here.  We  had  to  bend  very  low  to  en- 
ter the  door-way,  and  even  when  inside,  the  gentlemen 
could  not  stand  up  straight.  The  workers  put  a  lump 
of  wet  clay  on  a  wheel  which  they  turned  round  and 
round  with  one  foot,  shaping  the  jug  with  their  fingers 
in  a  very  expert  way.  By  this  simple  process  they 
made  more  than  half-a-dozen  of  these  neat,  well-shaped 
bottles  (even  ornamented  on  the  outside)  during  the 
two  or  three  minutes  we  were  watching  them.  All 
around  the  villages  there  were  piles  of  them  drying  in 
the  sun.  Some  of  the  huts  are  covered  with  straw  or 
old  matting,  while  others  are  moulded  up  in  the  form 
of  haystacks.  They  are  so  low  that  as  you  pass  rapidly 
by  in  the  cars,  you  would  take  them  for  mere  heaps  of 
rubbish  among  the  green  fields,  were  it  not  for  the 
sleepy-looking  inhabitants  squatting  Turkish  fashion 
under  the  trees,  lazily  smoking  their  pipes;  and  now 
and  then  a  woman  coming  from  the  veil  with  her  dark 
veil  falling  gracefully  over  her  shoulders,  balancing  a 
large  jug  on  her  head. 

The  country  women  do  not  cover  their  faces,  and 
are  generally  barefooted  and  bare  armed,  wearing  ank- 
lets, bracelets,  and  necklaces  of  colored  glass  or  gilt 
beads.  When  they  raise  theii*  dark  blue  dresses,  you 
can  see  their  loose  trousers,  of  red  or  yellow,  gathered 
round  their  ankles.  Some  of  these  women  are  beauti- 
ful, and  many  a  lovely  picture  could  be  made  of  them, 
with  their  jugs,  or  baskets  of  oranges  on  their  heads,  or 


'^ 


EGYPT. 


217 


what  would  be  more  characteristic,  with  a  baby  astride 
their  left  shoulder,  while  the  little  thinc^  lays  its  head 


on  its  mother's,  and  sleeps  as  comfortably  as  if  it  were 
rocked  in  a  cradle. 
10 


2l8 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


I  have  not  yet  told  of  anything  that  I  have  seen  in 
Cairo,  for  all  of  these  things  are  to  be  found  in  the 
country.  As  for  curious  trees,  plants,  and  birds,  I  shall 
not  remember  half  of  them.  There  is  a  large  banyan- 
tree  in  front  of  my  window,  with  the  lower  branches 
growing  downward. 


\n% 


Jan.  II. — I  never  tire  of  sitting  out  on  the  piazza  in 
front  of  the  hotel,  and  watching  what  passes  in  the 
street.  On  the  opposite  side  there  are  always  about  a 
dozen  boys  with  donkeys  waiting  to  be  hired.  There 
are  white,  gray,  black,  and  mouse-colored  ones,  neatly 
shaved  and  taken  care  of  like  horses,  with  bright  sad- 
dles of  red  leather.  The  donkey-boys,  of  every  shade 
and  cast  ci  complexion  and  features,  from  the  almost 
white  skin  of  the  Turks  and  Circassians,  to  the  coal- 
black  Nubians,  are  all  dressed  in  loose  blue  or  white 
tunics,  each  wearing  a  red  cap  or  fez  with  a  tassel,  and 
carrying  a  long  reed  with  which  to  strike  the  donkey. 
The  moment  you  make  your  appearance  they  all  rush 
toward  you  and  begin  talking  in  broken  English.  The 
donkeys  go  alternately  by  the  names  of  "  Yankee  Doo- 
dle," "  Prince  of  Wales,"  "  Flying  Dutchman,"  or  '*  Mac- 
aroni," according  to  the  country  from  which  the  boys 
imagine  you  come.  They  are  generally  very  quick,  too, 
about  guessing,  though  the  other  day  one  of  them  came 
up  to  me  with  a  very  comical-looking  animal,  such  as 
one  sees  in  pictures.  He  began,  "  See,  Yankee  Doodle 
donkey,  gude  donkey,"  then  as  I  did  not  take  him,  he 
decided  that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  that  I  was  not  an 
American,  so  he  went  on,  "  Dis  Prince  o'  Wales'  don- 
key ;  he  name  it  Yankee  Doodle ;  Prince  o'  Wales  ride 
on  dis  donkey." 

It  is  astonishing  to  see  what  large  men  and  great 
burdens  these  little  creatures  can  carry.   We  frequently 


EGYPT. 


219 


see  the  native  ladies  on  the  donkeys,  and  always  astride, 
though  with  very  short  stirrups.  This,  however,  does 
not  look  at  all  out  of  the  way,  with  their  style  of  dress. 
At  first,  these  people  seem  to  have  no  regular  fash- 
ion, but  all  dress  to  suit  tiiemselves  ;  but  one  soon  finds 
that  there  is  great  regularity  about  their  costume. 
Among  the  women  it  is  principally  by  the  material 
that  one  knows  their  rank.  The  dress  of  the  higher 
class  seems  to  be  always  of  silk  ;  one  never  sees  alpaca, 
merinoes,  or  any  woolen  goods,  I  suppose  it  is  partly  be- 
cause the  climate  is  so  hot.  This  dress  is  of  a  single 
color,  either  green,  red,  yellow,  blue,  purple,  or  brown. 
Thi  is  entirely  covered  with  a  black  silk  veil,  and  it  is 
only  when  the  wind  biows  it  open  that  one  sees  the 
robe  at  all.  The  poor  women  use  cotton  or  calico,  the 
outer  dress  and  veil  being  always  dark  blue,  the  trousers 
alone  are  bright.  The  six  hundred  wives  of  the  Vice- 
roy, and  the  ladies  of  the  harems  of  the  Pashas  rarely  go 
out  in  the  street,  and  when  they  do,  it  is  in  close  carriages. 
The  couriers  or  sais  who  run  in  front  of  the  carriages 
of  rich  people,  have,  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  cos- 
tume of  all.  They  wear  black  or  red  velvet  vests  richly 
embroidered  with  gold  thread,  white  trousers  reaching 
only  to  the  knee,  and  very  long,  flowing  sleeves  that 
resemble  wings  as  they  bound  swiftly  ahead,  scarcely 
seeming  to  touch  the  earth.  These  runners  are  gen- 
erally rather  dark,  beautifully  formed,  and  graceful  in 
their  movements.  They  must  be  trained  from  child- 
hood, for  they  seem  never  tired,  never  out  of  breath. 
While  running,  they  hold  themselves  perfectly  erect, 
and  carry  a  light  rod  in  the  right  hand,  calling  out  to 
the  people  as  they  pass,  something  that  means  "  clear 
the  road,"  and  it  is  wonderful  how  the  Arabs,  camels, 
and  donkeys  scatter  right  and  left  to  make  way  for  the 
carriages.     If  it  is  the  Khedive's  son  who  drives  out, 


220 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


there  are  frequently  four  sais  with  spears  in  front,  and 
several  horsemen  behind. 

Among  the  Mohammedans,  the  descendants  of  the 
prophet  are  distinguished  by  their  green  turbans  and 


Mosque— Egypt. 

gowns.     The  Copts,  who  are  all  Christians,  wear  black 
turbans. 

Sometimes  one  meets  with  startling  combinations  of 
the  European  and  the  Eastern  dress,  such,  for  instance, 


EGYPT. 


221 


as  pointed  slippers,  tight  pantaloons,  a  colored  jacket, 
and  a  tbrmidable  turban  ;  or  what  is  more  frequent, 
Turkish  trousers  and  a  black  cloth  coat  on  the  same 
individual. 

After  seeing,  in  some  of  the  cities  of  Italy,  a  small 
column  of  Egyptian  alabaster  pointed  out  as  a  great 
treasure  in  some  church,  it  seemed  strange  to  visit  an 
immense  mosque,  that  of  Mohamet  Ali,  with  a  large 
dome  and  dizzy  minarets  made  entirely  of  this  beauti- 
ful material.  The  architecture  was  grand  and  impos- 
ing ;  the  interior  was  carpeted  with  rich  rugs,  and  five 
hundred  lamps  were  suspended  from  the  dome  and 
ceiling  by  heavy  chains,  although  the  vastness  of  the 
building  made  them  look  like  threads. 

Whole  volumes  could  be  written  about  what  one 
sees  in  and  around  this  one  city  of  Cairo  ;  the  curious 
little  streets  or  lanes  ;  the  houses  projecting  farther  out 
at  each  story  until  the  sky  is  almost  hidden,  latticed 
windows  and  balconies,  beautiful  oriental  doors  ;  ba- 
zaars  v/hei'e  each  shop  is  but  the  size  of  a  child's  play- 
house, and  all  the  people  are  trading  in  the  streets,  as 
it  would  be  impossible  for  more  than  one  man  to  stand 
inside  the  shop.  When  no  customers  are  around,  the 
shopmen  are  smoking  their  pipes  or  drinking  little  cups 
of  Arabian  coffee,  and  always  seated  cross-legged  on 
the  counter.  Then  there  are  the  old  mosques,  with 
miraculous  pillars  sent  through  the  air,  and  footprints 
of  the  prophet  on  stones  ;  primitive  Coptic  rites  and 
shrines  of  saints  where  devils  are  cast  out ;  Moham- 
medan dervishes  spinning  round  like  tops  to  honor  the 
Great  Allah ;  funeral  processions  struggling  through 
the  donkey  carts  and  traders  ;  curious  burying  places 
in  the  desert  with  the  heads  of  the  tombs  toward 
Mecca. 

Everything  is  a  dizzy  whirl  of  wonder  and  excite- 


2J2 


AROi./D   THE   WORLD, 


'■•^i  ■■■■ 

M '  ■ 

s  ■       i 


ji 


mcnt  ;  bcinj^  draj^gcd  up  the  steep  steps  of  the  Pyra- 
mids by  wild-looking  Bedouins  of  the  desert ;  resting 
on  the  top  hot  and  panting ;  eagles  soaring  right  above 
oar  heads,  and  desert,  desert,  desert  far  away  to  the 
westward  ;    the  green   valley  of  the   Nile  and  desert, 


A  Street  in  Cairo. 

desert,  desert  beyond  to  the  eastward ;  tombs  half 
buried  in  the  sand  at  our  feet,  and  the  sphynx,  stern, 
sublime,  and  broken-nosed.  Then  scrambling  down 
over  the  crumbling  stones,  cravvling  into  the  interior 
of  the  pyramid,  down  a  slippery  inclined  plane,  and 


EGYPT. 


223 


up  another  inclined  plane  ;  pushed,  pulled,  and  carried 
through  narrow  passages  and  low  holes,  nearly  suffo- 


p:'i':'    'P!:i:    'il  li.  1:1'" 


cated  for  want  of  air  and  by  smoking  lights.     Coming 
at  last  to  a  large  chamber  made  of  immense  blocks  of 


1 1 


)  If? 

i  ki 


I 


ti 


224 


AROUND  THE   V/ORLD. 


granite,  and  containing  an  empty  sarcophagus,  the 
Arab  guides  yelling,  squabbUng,  aud  inter[)reting,  tell 
us  this  is  the  tomb  of  King  Cheops.  A  magnesium 
wire  lights  up  the  vast  room  and  shows  the  Bedouins 
running  here  and  there  with  the  frightened  and  be- 
wildered party,  dusty,  tired,  and  nearly  choked,  but 
glad  to  recognize  each  other  by  the  bright  gleam  of 
light.  If  I  forget  everything  else  that  I  have  seen  on 
my  journey,  I  shall  always  remember  that  wild  scene 
in  the  centre  of  the  great  pyramid. 

Another  day  took  us  once  more  to  the  desert,  but 
this  time  on  the  opposite  side  of  Cairo.  I  can  now  see 
the  fairy-like  cupolas  and  oriental  honeycomb-work  of 
the  tombs  of  the  caliphs,  the  same  color  as  the  sand, 
and  seeming  like  a  beautiful  fossilized  growth  of  the 
desert.  Everything  is  in  keeping — long  strings  of 
camels  plodding  through  the  sand,  looking  twice  as 
picturesque  on  their  rightful  ground,  and  strange  birds 
flying  overhead.  The  old  monarchs  did,  indeed,  choose 
a  wild  and  solemn  place  to  build  their  w^onderful 
tombs. 

To-morrow,  again,  we  shall  make  a  distant  excursion 
to  the  site  of  Memphis.  The  donkey  ride  will  be  long 
and  tiring,  and  it  is  already  after  nightfall,  so  I  must 
leave  Cairo  as  it  is,  with  this  junibled-up  description; 
for  we  leave  for  Suez  on  Wednesday,  to  embark  for 
Ceylon  and  Hong  Kong. 


XXVIII. 
UNCLE'S    CHAPTER. 

HIS  ACC-'NT  OF  THE  COPTIC  CATHOLICS  AS  WE  SAW  THEM  IN  CAIRO 
— AN  ANCIENT  Ri  f E — CATHEIIRAL  OK  THE  SCHISMATIC  COPTS — THEIR 
QUEER  CUSTOMS— TRADITIONS  OK  THE  HOLY  FAMILY  IN  EGYPT— 
THE  HOUSE  THEY  OCCUPIED — THE  SYCAMORE  TREE. 


Dear  Father  H- 


Cairo,  Jan.  II. 

-:  Since  leaving  the  United 
States  I  have  seldom  touched  pen  to  paper.  Some 
things,  however,  which  I  have  witnessed  in  Cairo  have 
brought  you  so  forcibly  to  mind  that  I  can  not  resist 
the  impulse  to  write,  and  tell  you  of  what  I  have  seen 
while  the  memory  is  yet  fresh.  I  have  often  heard 
you  speak  with  great  interest  of  the  Coptic  Catholics 
and  their  rites.  Well,  I  have  assisted  at  several  Low 
Masses  in  Coptic,  also  at  two  solemn,  or  at  least  sung, 
Masses  in  the  same  language.  The  church  of  the 
Catholic  Copts  is  a  very  pretty  building,  recently  erect- 
ed by  the  care  of  the  Franciscan  missionaries,  who  share 
in  its  use  with  their  Coptic  brethren,  and  are  subject 
like  them  to  the  Coptic  bishop.  [There  is  another 
community  of  Franciscans  here  who  devote  themselves 
to  the  European  residents  of  the  city  of  various  na- 
tions.] This  church  is  surmounted  and  lighted  by  a 
dome,  and  in  general  form  is  not  unlike  the  Pantheon  at 
Rome,  except  that  it  has  no  portico  and  that  the  facade 
is  in  the  ancient  Egyptian  style,  so  cleverly  imitated 
that  at  first  sight  I  believed  myself  to  be  entering  some 
ancient  temple  which  had  been  adapted  to  Christian 


\:\%'\ 


lO" 


(2*5) 


226 


AROUMD  THE   WORLD. 


worship.  It  has  two  altars  in  addition  to  tlic  high 
altar.  I  noticed  nothing  peculiar  about  the  construc- 
tion or  furniture  of  these.  There  is  no  communion  rail. 
A  small  square  cloth  is  handed  to  the  communicants 
by  one  of  the  boys. 

The  vestments  of  the  officiating  priest  are,  so  far  as  I 
could  observe,  the  same  as  our  own,  except  that  instead 
of  a  chasuble  they  wear  the  pluviale,  which  is  without 
a  cape,  and  a  far  more  flexible  and  graceful  vestment 
than  ours,  and  reaches  to  the  feet.  They  do  not  appear 
to  keep  any  distinctions  of  color;  for,  although  within 
the  octave  of  Epiphany  (Christmas  with  them),  violec, 
red,  yellow,  and  green  were  all  used.  The  pattern  of 
the  pluviale  is  rich  and  variegated.  It  has  a  cross  in 
the  centre  of  the  back — but  small — and  by  no  means 
showy  like  the  huge  cross-bars  of  the  French  chasuble. 

The  head  of  the  celebrant  is  bare,  but  the  rest  of  the 
clergy  and  all  the  congregation  keep  their  heads  covered 
throughout  the  Mass.  Turbans,  fezzcs,  and  caps  of 
various  kinds  are  as  much  in  order  here  for  men  as  are 
the  hats  of  women  in  American  churches.  There  are 
benches  in  this  church,  but  some  of  the  people  prefer  to 
sit  on  the  floor  cross-legged  whenever  they  can  find  a 
carpet  or  clean  place. 

The  mis'^al  is  placed  at  the  left  hand  of  the  celebrant, 
as  with  us  during  the  canon,  and  is  never  changed. 
The  text  is  in  Coptic,  the  rubrics  in  Arabic ;  the  text 
reading  from  left  to  right  as  in  English,  the  Arabic 
characters  from  right  to  left.  The  offertoiy  is  at  the 
beginning  of  Mass,  before  either  epistle  or  gospel — be- 
fore even  the  lavabo.  The  celebrant  turns  and  shows 
to  the  people  the  bread  which  is  to  be  consecrated,  and 
walks  to  the  end  of  the  altar  and  back,  holding  it  in  his 
hand.  At  High  Mass  he  makes  an  entire  circuit  about 
the  altar,   the  altar  boys  accompanying  him   in   pro- 


US' CLE'S  CHAPTER. 


227 


cession.  At  some  of  the  inccnsings  likewise  he  goes 
around  the  altar.  After  the  epistle  has  been  chanted, 
it  is  repeated  also  in  Arabic  for  the  benefit  of  the  people 
who  do  not  understand  the  Coptic.  One  little  boy  who 
did  this  was  only  six  years  old  at  most,  and  another 
day  I  saw  a  little  fellow  of  four  years  old  perform  the 
same  duty.  He  was  dressed  in  a  flowing  cassock  or 
gown  of  blue  and  gold,  with  a  cross  upon  the  back. 
He  put  mc  in  mind  of  little  Samuel  in  the  temple. 
The  gospel  also,  after  bein^;  sung  in  Coptic,  is  inter- 
preted in  Arabic  to  the  people,  and  at  High  Mass  a 
homily  from  one  of  the  Fathers  is  also  read  to  explain 
its  meaning.  The  priests  who  assist  at  High  Mass, 
whatever  office  they  may  perform,  wear  no  other  vest- 
ments than  their  ordinary  every-day  haL.c,  a  loose 
black  gown  with  flowing  sleeves,  and  black  turban. 
The  altai  ooys  wear  gowns  of  similar  form,  but  of  vari- 
ous colors. 

The  celebrant  often  gives  his  benediction  to  the 
people,  turning  first  to  the  left  and  then  to  the  right, 
but  only  turning  partially  around  to  either  side.  From 
the  consecration  until  after  communion,  each  hand  was 
covered  by  a  pall,  which  he  still  retained  when  giving 
the  benedictions.  There  was  no  elevation  of  the  host 
at  the  time  of  consecrating,  the  priest  kneeling  once 
only  at  each  consecration.  But  just  before  commun- 
ing he  turned  around  with  the  host  in  his  hand,  eleva- 
ting and  showing  it  to  the  people,  who  adore  it  with 
an  outburst  of  enthusiasm  which,  to  a  stranger,  is  per- 
fectly startling.  The  censer  among  the  Copts  is  like 
our  own,  and  handled  very  much  in  the  same  way,  but 
so  far  as  I  saw,  by  the  officiating  priest  only. 

When  High  Mass  is  finished,  that  is,  immediately  af- 
ter communion,  the  celebrant  comes  forward  toward 
the  congregation,  when  all — clergy,  assistant,  and  peo- 


I 


I  If'fi  i 

Illy 


228 


AROUND   THE   VVuRLD. 


pie — gather  around  him,  and  bend  their  heads  to  re- 
ceive his  blessing,  which  he  gives  by  laying  his  hand 
upon  the  forehead  of  each.  There  was  a  beauty  and 
solemnity  about  this  final  act  whicn  I  found  very 
impressive. 

I  speak,  you  understand,  of  the  Catholic  Copts,  who 
recognize  the  authority  of  the  Holy  Father,  and  are 
therefore  in  communion  with  us.  I  said  my  own  Mass 
in  the  sr.me  church,  but,  of  course,  according  to  the 
Roman  rite.  It  was  a  great  joy  for  me  to  stand  at  the 
altar  surrounded  by  these  descendants  of  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  and  see  them  worshipping  with  me  on  the 
same  ground  where  Joseph  and  Moses  once  trod,  and 
where  Pharaoh  hardened  his  heart  against  God,  and  al- 
most under  the  shadow  cf  the  same  pyramids  where 
their  fathers  drove  the  enslaved  Israelites  to  their  task. 
Now  these  remnants  of  that  ancient  race  are  numbered 
with  the  people  of  God,  united  with  the  Vicar  of  Christ, 
and  mingle  their  tears  and  prayers  with  his  against  tiie 
European  Pharaohs  and  Egyptians  of  our  day. 

What  delights  me  most  in  these  Coptic  services  is 
the  chanting.  At  first  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  jnissa  cantata  and  missa  privata,  for  even  the 
Low  Mass  is  recited  in  a  chanting  tone,  and  with  ca- 
dences as  sweet  and  musical  as  anything  I  have  ever 
heard  in  the  plain  chant ;  and  the  altar  boy  responds  in 
the  same  manner.  These  responses  are  so  frequent,  and 
chime  in  so  readily,  that  it  seeras  more  like  a  rui:ning 
accompaniment  than  a  way  of  responding,  and  I  liked 
it  better  than  the  chanting  of  the  choir  of  priests  and 
deacons  at  the  High  Mass.  At  one  point  of  the  latter, 
however,  I  was  completely  enchanted.  It  was  just  be- 
fore the  communion,  when  the  celebrant  turned  to- 
ward the  people  and  showed  them  the  sacred  host, 
singing  all  the  while.     AH — priests  and  people — ^joined 


UNCLE'S  CHAPTER. 


229 


their  voices  to  his  in  a  sort  of  low,  murmuring  chant, 
and  when  the  still  louder,  clearer,  and  higher  voices  of 
the  boys  rose  in  the  air  above  the  rest,  the  effect  was 
simply  transporting.  At  the  communion  also  a  hymn 
is  sung — sometimes  by  the  clergy,  sometimes  by  a  small 
choir  of  boys,  and  sometimes  by  alternate  voices  of 
both  —  and  this  last  combination  especially  is  ver}' 
beautiful  and  effectiv^e. 

Communion  was  given  to  the  women  through  a  lat- 
ticed window  at  one  side  of  the  altar,  not  always  by 
the  celebrant,  but  also  by  another  priest,  both  before 
and  during  Mass.  T^e  women  are  separated  from  the 
men,  places  being  assigned  to  them  in  latticed  galleries, 
so  that  in  church  they  are  not  only  closely  veiled,  but 
cloistered.  I  saw  a  devout  and  venerable  old  man  com- 
municating. He  took  off  the  large  shawl  with  which  he 
had  been  covered,  came  forward  and  kneeled  on  the 
a'tar-step.  After  communion  he  returned  to  his  pbce 
and,  covering  again  his  head  and  entire  body  in  the 
ample  folds  of  his  shawl,  he  remained  so  for  a  long 
while,  like  a  bundle  of  clothing,  motionless  and  appa- 
rently inanimate.  I  know  nothing  of  the  interior  dis- 
positions of  these  people,  but  their  appearance  in 
church  is  certainly  very  edifying.  A  little  boy  of  three 
or  four  years  ran  forward  and  kneeled  by  the  old  man's 
side,  and  b'int  his  head  beneath  the  Sacrament.  He 
si^emed  to  consider  it  as  a  means  of  recrlving  a  special 
benediction.  Neither  the  priest  nor  the  others  present 
seemed  to  notice  this  as  anything  unusual.  To  me 
there  wao  something  very  beautiful  and  touching  in  the 
incident.  I  assisted  also  at  a  Low  Mass  celebrated  by 
the  Coptic  bishop.  There  was  nothing  about  it  different 
from  what  I  have  already  def':ribed,  except  that  he  was 
attended  by  two  deacons  in  dalmatics.  These  dalmat- 
ics reached  to  the  floor,  and  had  long,  loose  sleeves. 


230 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


They  were  of  light  blue  color  with  dark  stripes.  A 
priedieu  was  placed  before  the  altar  where  the  bishop 
made  his  preparation  and  thanksgiving  as  our  bishops 
do.  He  had  no  mitre,  but  a  black  cap  precisely  like 
the  ecclesiastical  cap  of  the  other  priests,  except  that 
it  had  attached  to  it  a  black  veil  which  fell  back  over 
hio  shoulders.  This  cap,  or  biretta,  he  wore  at  the 
altar,  except  at  the  gospel  and  the  more  solemn  parts 
of  the  Mass,  when  it  was  removed  by  the  deacon.  The 
cap  is  shaped  very  much  like  an  old-fashioned  bell- 
crowned  hat,  but  without  the  brim,  and  more  expanded 
at  the  top.  His  crozier  was  in  the  form  of  an  actual 
cross,  the  extremities  of  the  two  arms  being  bent  up- 
wards. This  he  only  used  when  walking  to  the  altar  be- 
fore Mass,  and  retiring  to  his  throne  at  the  end.  He 
vested  at  the  altar  and  unvested  at  the  throne.  When- 
ever he  gave  benedict ''on  to  the  people,  it  was  with  a 
small  silver  cross,  which  was  kept  beside  him  at  the 
altar.  On  entering  the  church,  besides  the  cap,  he  wore 
a  purple  gown,  coverjd  by  a  short  black  cassock,  over 
which  he  wore  his  pectoral  cross.  At  the  altar  he  put 
on  an  alb,  a  stole,  and  then  the  pluviale.  I  saw  no 
maniple  nor  any  other  vestment.  After  Mass  he 
stationed  himself  in  front  of  the  high  altar,  where 
every  one  came  forward  and  received  his  benediction, 
kissing  first  the  little  silver  cross  and  then  nis  ring. 
So  far  as  regards  the  communion  of  the  laity  under 
both  kinds,  and  the  giving  communion  to  infant  chil- 
dren, the  Catholic  Copts  have  conformed  to  the  usages 
of  or  Church.  They  preserve,  however,  their  own 
ancic.it  rite,  and  almost  all  the  religious  usages  which 
they  observed  before  their  reunion. 

The  schismatic  Copts  have  also  a  cathedral  he.e,  and 
another  church  at  Old  Cairo.  Since  the  death  of  their 
late  patriarch,  the  government  has  not  allowed  them  to 


UNCLE'S  CHAPTER. 


231 


elect  a  new  one,  from  a  superstitious  idea  (so  it  is  said) 
of  the  Viceroy,  that  when  a  new  patriarch  is  chosen,  he 
himself  must  die.  These  ceremonies  are,  with  very 
little  apparent  difference,  the  same  as  already  described. 
The  cathedral  has  a  close  rood-screen,  and  there  is  a 
similar  screen  also  to  the  sm-. ill  chapel  adjoining  it, 
where  it  is  customary  to  say  Mass  except  when  a  Sun- 
day or  some  high  festival  occurs.  On  the  morning  of 
January  9,  I  visited  this  church  at  the  time  of  the  serv- 
ices, and  had  a  good  seat  brought  in  for  me,  just  in 
front  of  the  screen  door,  where  I  could  see  the  cele- 
brant and  the  altar.  I  was  allowed,  also,  to  look 
through  a  small  square  window  or  opening  in  the 
screen,  where,  by  standing  up,  I  had  a  complete  view 
of  everything  which  took  place  in  tnc  sanctuary.  The 
altar  was  simply  an  oblong  table,  and  covered  by  a  rich 
dark  green  cloth,  reaching  to  the  floor  on  all  sides. 
Upon  it  stood  a  beautiful  carved  tabernacle,  a  small 
square  box  to  contain  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  This 
was  also  so  low  as  to  be  within  easy  reach  cf  the  cele- 
brant. On  the  top  of  this  stood  the  chalice  through- 
out the  Mass ;  while  the  paten  (a  large  vessel  about 
the  size  of  a  tea-plate,  and  shaped  like  a  shallow  pan) 
was  placed  on  the  table  of  the  altar,  as  with  us.  The 
congregation  all  sat  cross-legged  upon  the  floor,  on  car- 
pets and  mats.  All  took  off  their  slippers  on  entering 
the  church,  but  kept  their  heads  covered.  The  cele- 
brant himself  sat  down  in  the  same  fashion  outside  of 
the  screen  door,  while  the  epistle  was  read,  and  the 
homily  after  the  gospel.  He  interrupted  the  reader, 
from  time  to  time,  correcting  him,  as  I  supposed,  or 
sometimes,  perhaps,  making  a  brief  explanation.  Other 
priests  present  did  the  same. 

The  celebrant  partook  of  the  sacred  element  at  three 
distinct  times  for  each  species.   The  two  altar  boys  who 


;?r 


v  jd- 


if*   i 
.  £'«   I' 


232 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


communicated  did  the  same,  each  boy  walking  entirely 
around  the  altar  and  returning  to  receive  again.  The 
priest  received  the  precious  blood  by  means  of  a 
spoon,  and  communicated  to  the  boys  in  the  same 
way.  Finally  he  consumed  what  remained  by  drink- 
ing from  the  chalice. 

All  this  seemed  to  me  very  strange,  but  I  had  an  ex- 
cellent post  for  observation,  and  could  not  be  mistaken. 

A  still  more  remarkable  thing  was  the  giving  commun- 
ion to  a  little  infant  about  a  year  old.  A  young  man 
brought  the  child  in  his  arms  to  the  door  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  the  celebrant,  after  emptying  the  chalice  at 
his  own  communion,  put  in  his  finger,  pressing  it  care- 
fully around  the  inside  of  the  cup,  and  then  touched  it 
to  the  child's  tongue.  One  of  the  altar  boys  then  gave 
the  child  a  drink  of  water  from  a  small  jug.  Both  of 
these  usages,  namely,  the  triune-communion,  if  I  may 
so  call  it,  and  the  communicating  to  infants,  were  con- 
firmed by  the  testimony  of  the  superior  of  the  Francis- 
can missionaries,  who  told  me  that  such  is  the  custom 
among  the  schismatic  Copts.  When  a  layman  wishes 
to  communicate,  he  brings  his  own  altar  bread  with 
him  for  that  purpose,  which  is  thereupon  put  on  the 
altar  and  consecrated  with  the  rest.  One  of  the  breads 
was  shown  to  me  at  the  convent  of  the  Christian  Bro- 
thers. It  was  of  the  size  of  an  ordinary  tea-biscuit,  but 
much  thinner,  and  sacred  words,  in  Coptic  characters, 
were  stamped  upon  the  top.  At  the  end  of  the  Mass, 
which  followed  close  upon  the  communion,  the  cele- 
brant took  a  small  tumbler  in  his  hand,  holding  his 
thumbs  and  forefingers  over  the  top,  as  we  do  over  the 
chalice,  while  a  boy  pouied  in  water.  Then,  with  a 
quick  motion  and  surprising  dexterity,  he  threw  the 
contents  of  the  glass  into  the  air  in  such  a  way  that  it 
fell  like  a  spray  over  all  that  stood  near  him.     All,  by 


UNCLE'S  CHAPTER. 


233 


this  time,  had  gathered  about  the  door  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  he  gave  them  his  blessing  in  the  manner  already 
described. 

The  church  of  the  schismatic  Copts  at  Old  Cairo  is  a 
very  ancient  one.  It  is  built  over  the  house  in  which, 
the  tradition  says,  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  Joseph 
lived  with  our  Saviour  during  their  abode  in  Egypt. 
The  pillars  and  walls  of  the  little  house  remain  still. 
They  showed  us  the  place  where  the  Divine  Infant  lay 
— a  sort  of  deep  recess  or  niche  in  the  wall.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  city,  to  the  northward,  not  far  from 
the  great  obelisk  which  is  the  sole  mark  of  the  site  of 
the  ancient  city  of  Heliopolis,  is  shown  also  the  syca- 
more-tree under  which  the  Holy  Family  reposed  on 
their  way  hither.  We  plucked  some  leaves  from  it, 
and  also  a  ripe  orange  from  a  tree  near  by.  It  is  a 
fertile  spot.  We  saw  the  cotton  growing  there,  and 
the  sugar-cane  nearly  ripe,  while  a  well  of  sweet  water, 
a  few  steps  from  the  tree,  refreshed  our  thirsty  lips. 
The  line  of  the  desert  is  also  very  near.  This  must 
have  been  a  welcome  resting-place  to  these  blessed  pil- 
grims, and  was,  I  suppose,  the  first  fertile  spot  they 
found  after  their  weary  flight  across  the  sands.  Cairo 
possesses,  also,  other  churches  in  union  with  the  Holy 
See,  which  have  their  own  peculiar  rites,  namely,  Ar- 
menian, Greek,  Syrian,  and  Maronite.  The  head  of  the 
last  is  a  mitred  abbot.  The  others  are  governed  each  by  a 
bishop  or  vicar-apostolic  of  its  own,  and  so  is  the  Cop- 
tic. All  these  are  independent  of  each  other,  making  a 
strange  confusion  here  of  jurisdiction  as  well  as  of  rite. 

I  have  not  seen  Father  H since  last  October, 

when  I  met  him  at  Geneva.  I  find,  however,  his  name 
registered  here  in  the  sacristy  of  the  Franciscans.  He 
was  here  in  the  beginning  of  December,  and  is  now  fai 
away  up  the  Nile.     I  shall  return  home,  please  God,  by 


234 


AROUND   THE  WORLD. 


way  of  the  Red  Sea,  India,  China,  Japan,  and  San 
Francisco.  Adieu,  and  kind  remembrance  to  the  whole 
circle  of  dear  friends  around  you. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  brother  in  Christ, 

C.  A.  Walworth. 


XXIX. 

THE   DESERT   AND   THE    RED   SEA. 

A.  llASIlrjL  YOUNG  MAN  —  MOUNTING  A  CAMEL  —  LAND  OF  THE 
CIIII.URKN  OI--  ISRAEL— DKSERT  SCENERY— SUEZ  CANAL— THE  STEAMER 
— MOSEs'  WELL  AND  MOUNT  SINAI— DOWN  THE  RED  SEA— ENTER- 
ING THE   TROPICS— STRANGE   LIGHTS. 


Steamer  "Australia,"  Red  Sea,  JamiJiry. 

The  last  day  we  spent  at  Cairo  we  visited  the  tombs 
of  the  Caliphs  a  second  time.  A  young  Holland  gen- 
tleman, Uncle,  and  I  rode  thither  on  donkeys.  While 
we  were  in  the  streets  of  the  city  we  could  not  go  very 
fast,  because  they  were  so  narrow  and  crowded  with 
people ;  but  the  moment  we  were  outside  the  gates,  in 
the  desert,  we  went  at  a  full  gallop.  The  idea  of  rid- 
ing at  that  rate  on  a  donkey  seemed  so  funny  that  we 
were  laughing  all  the  time.  The  stirrups  on  the  gentle- 
men's saddles  were  arranged  in  such  a  way  that  they 
slipped  from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  the  riders  had 
to  balance  themselves  carefully  to  keep  on.  The  young 
Hollander  was  of  rather  a  timid  disposition,  and  his 
face  would  get  red,  and  he  looked  anything  but  com- 
fortable, when  one  leg  slipped  up  and  the  other  down, 
alternately. 

While  we  were  at  the  tombs  we  had  a  camel  ride. 
When  you  are  placed  on  a  camel's  back  and  he  begins 
to  rise,  you  have  the  strangest  sensations  imaginable. 
All  of  a  sudden  one  crank  in  the  hind  legs  will  unbend, 
and  bunk  !  you  will  go  nearly  over  the  creature's  head  ; 

(235) 


236 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


then  up  go  the  fore  legs  with  the  same  sudden  motion  • 
and  this  time  you  find  yourself  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  animal's  tail ;  one  more  bounce  from  this  hind 
quarter,  as  he  gets  fairly  on  his  feet,  sets  you  once  more 
on  the  middle  of  the  hump,  where  you  first  seated 
yourself. 

You  are  very  high  up  by  this  time,  and,  as  the  camel 
starts  off  with  long  strides,  your  body  bowing  back- 
wards and  forwards  furiously,  while  you  hold  on  with 
both  hands  to — you  don't  know  exactly  what — you 
begin  to  wonder  which  is  farthest  away,  the  desert 
below,  or  the  heavens  above.  After  riding  a  short  dis- 
tance, you  are  very  glad  to  go  through  the  difficult 
operation  of  being  lowered.  This  is  something  like 
mounting,  except  that  the  movements  are  still  more 
surprising  and  unexpected.  There  is  an  astonishing 
number  of  joints  in  a  camel's  legs,  and  he  seems  to  fall 
from  one  crook  to  another  until  he  has  those  long  limbs 
of  his  folded  under  him,  and  you  are  near  enough  to 
the  ground  to  be  lifted  off.  They  have  a  most  distress- 
ing cry  when  they  think  they  arc  to  be  loaded.  The 
only  way  I  can  describe  it  is  by  suggesting  something 
like  a  mingling  of  the  noises  made  by  a  horse,  a  cow, 
a  cat,  and  a  baby,  if  you  can  possibly  imagine  such  a 
sound. 

It  takes  a  whole  day  to  go  by  rail  from  Cairo  to 
Suez,  but  we  were  so  much  interested  in  the  country 
we  passed  through  that  it  was  not  at  all  tedious.  About 
one-third  of  the  way  we  followed  the  fertile  valley  of 
the  Nile,  through  the  very  country  tha^  is  supposed  to 
'  be  that  part  of  Egypt  which  was  occupied  by  the 
children  of  Israel.  It  is  the  richest  soil  in  the  country, 
often  producing  six  crops  in  the  year ;  every  field  has 
tiny  canals  traversing  it  in  all  directions,  so  that  when- 
ever the  ground  needs  watering,  these  are  filled  from 


238 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


the  small  branches  of  the  Nile  that  stray  off  from  the 
two  main  streams  of  tlie  delta. 

The  railroad  followed  one  of  these  branches  as  far  as 
the  station  of  Zagazig,  and  on  the  way  we  frequently 
saw  the  inhabitants  watering  the  fields.  There  were 
generally  two  boys  standing  in  the  stream  swinging  a 
tight,  basket-looking  bucket  into  the  water,  then  empty- 
ing it  into  one  end  of  a  little  canal.  They  did  it  very 
rapidly,  and  without  moving  from  their  places ;  the 
water  ran  from  one  canal  or  channel  into  another,  until 
the  whole  field  was  moistened. 

Soon  after  leaving  Zagazig  we  were  surrounded  on 
all  sides  by  the  desert,  and  then  really  appreciated  its 
vastness  and  grandeur.  The  slopmg  sand-hills,  in  every 
direction,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  reminded  one 
of  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  but  were  doubly  imposing 
from  their  very  stillness.  In  some  places  the  sand  was 
beautiful,  where  the  wind  had  made  ripples  along  the 
banks,  and  it  had  hardened  in  that  way. 

We  had  not  gone  far  when  we  saw  a  very  large  car- 
avan slowly  winding  along  from  the  direction  of  the 
Holy  Land.  There  were  between  forty  and  fifty 
camels,  very  heavily  laden,  and  evidently  proceeding  to 
Cairo.  They  looked  natural  and  graceful,  for  they  were 
walking  on  their  own  proper  ground  ;  their  great,  bag- 
like feet  that  seemed  so  gawky  on  hard  ground,  now 
sank  into  the  sand  easily  and  were  as  readily  lifted 
up  again,  while  horses  and  donkeys  would  stumble 
along  most  awkwardly. 

We  reached  the  Suez  Canal  at  Ismailia.  This  is  a 
town  right  in  the  desert,  without  a  green  thing  in  sight. 
The  houses,  the  streets,  and  even  the  inhabitants,  looked 
sandy,  the  last  both  in  complexion  and  clothes.  Sand- 
colored  cane  fences  surrounded  the  place  to  prevent  the 
sand  from   covering  up  the  town,  and,  still  stranger, 


THE  DESERT  AND  THE  RED  SEA. 


239 


tlicre  was  a  lake  in  tlic  sand.  Very  pretty  it  is,  too. 
On  one  shore  is  the  Egyptian  desert,  and  on  tlie  other 
tile  Arabian  ;  it  divides  the  two  countries  and  forms 
part  of  the  Suez  Canal. 

Further  on  are  the  Bitter  Lakes,  which  are  much 
larger,  but   like  this  one,  without  the  least  vegetation. 

Several  times  during  the  day  wc  passed  small  oases, 


-%- 


SuKz  Canal,  at  Ismaima. 

ar.d  saw  different  kinds  of  birds,  among  them  the  ibis 
'Jid  the  eagle.  We  reached  Suez  in  the  evening.  The 
next  morning  as  we  were  walking  on  the  roof  of  the 
hotel  (quite  a  favorite  promenade  in  this  country),  and 
looking  every  now  and  then  toward  the  great  canal  to 
see  if  the  "  Australia,"  our  vessel,  was  in  sight,we  noticed 
on  a  neighboring  roof  two  or  three  Franciscan  Fathers 


! 


240 


AROUND  THE  WORLD, 


II  ill 


walking  up  and  down,  saying  their  rosaries.  It  was  a 
pleasant  surprise.  We  soon  found  the  Convent,  had  a 
delightful  visit,  and  later  in  the  day  one  of  the  Fathers 
took  us  through  the  Egyptian  part  of  the  place. 

The  harbor  of  Suez,  where  the  large  vessels  anchor, 
is  some  distance  below  the  town  ;  so  on  Friday,  January 
1 6,  we  left  the  hotel  early  in  the  morning  in  a  small  sail- 
boat to  go  down  to  the  ship.  This  boat  was  no  larger 
than  an  ordinary  row-boat.  We  progressed  very  well 
for  some  time  with  the  sail,  and  as  the  water  was  very 
shallow,  the  men  pushed  us  along  occasionally  with 
poles.  Before  we  had  gone  far,  however,  it  began  to 
rain,  and  to  increase  our  troubles  the  wind  ceased. 
There  we  had  to  sit  in  the  wet,  while  the  boatmen 
went  through  the  slow  process  of  towing  us  along. 
The  two  men  took  turns  running  on  the  breakwater 
and  pulling  the  boat  with  a  rope.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
must  hurt  their  bare  feet  on  the  rough  stones,  but  they 
did  not  appear  to  mind  it  at  all. 

We  have  secured  cabins  on  the  steamer  in  the  best 
possible  position  ;  it  is  not  crowded,  and  we  have  each 
a  whole  room  to  ourselves.  I  believe  the  ship  is  one- 
sixteenth  of  a  mile  long — how  many  feet  that  is,  I  have 
not  tried  to  calculate ;  at  any  rate,  it  is  very  roomy, 
and  as  comfortable  as  can  be. 

We  left  Suez  Friday  morning,  and  have  had  delight- 
ful Tveather  ever  since. 

The  place  wa;,  pointed  out  to  us  at  A^hich  the  Israel- 
ites are  supposed  to  have  crossed  the  Red  Sea.  There 
ifj  a  narrow  strip  of  land  between  the  mountains  and 
the  sea,  where  an  army  might  easily  have  been  hemmed 
in.  Just  opposite,  on  the  Arabian  side,  is  a  small  oasis, 
consisting  of  a  few  trees  and  a  spring.  They  call  it 
Moses'  Well. 

All  the  way  down  the  Gulf  of  Suez  the  shores  are 


THE  DESERT  AND  THE  RED  SEA. 


it 


re 


very  interesting.  To  be  sure  there  are  nothlnpc  but 
mountains  and  desert,  but  tlv::  sun  makes  such  a  variety 
of  light  and  shade  that  we  never  weary  oX  looking  at 
the  coast.  In  the  afternoon  we  watched  "ery  carefully 
for  Mount  Sinai,  but  we  wcrv,  not  quite  certain  which 
of  the  high  peaks  we  saw  was  the  right  one. 

The  crew  of  the  ship  is  composed  of  Indians  and 
Chinese.  The  Hindoos  look  quite  picturesque,  with 
their  red  turbans  and  sashes,  working  about  the  vessel; 
some  of  them  wear  rings  on  their  big  toes.  1  he  China- 
men wear  queer,  broad-brimmed  hats. 

Jan.  17. — We  have  left  the  Gulf  of  Suez  and  are 
fairly  out  in  the  Red  Sea.  The  lines  of  the  shore  are 
no  longer  visible.  During  the  morning  we  passed  twc 
little  coral  islands,  called  **  The  Brothers ; "  there  was 
nothing  peculiar  about  them  except  that  they  were 
very  narrow,  long,  flat,  and  regular — two  small  slices  of 
land  out  there  all  by  themselves.  They  were  covered 
with  grass,  or  something  green,  but  no  trees  or  shrubs 
grew  on  them. 

This  evening  we  passed  a  lighthouse,  the  only  one  in 
the  Red  Sea,  although  there  are  a  great  many  shoals 
and  ugly  places  which  keep  the  captain  well  occupied. 

Jan.  18. — We  are  now  in  the  tropics,  and  it  is  con- 
stantly getting  hotter,  Everybody  is  beginning  to 
appear  in  summer  clothing,  and  we  spend  the  evenings 
on  deck  without  any  wrappings.  The  heavens  are  very 
brilliant ;  the  stars  seem  so  near.  The  phosphorescent 
lights  in  the  water — the  glow-worms  of  the  sea,  one 
might  call  them — become  more  beautiful  every  even- 
ing;  they  brighten  up  the  water  around  the  vessel  as 
far  as  the  foam,  caused  by  the  motion,  reaches  on  all 
sides.  The  zodiacal  light  is  seen  in  the  sky  every  night 
long  after  sunset,  when  the  stars  are  all  shining  ;  it  is 
a  strange,  white  light  that  reaches  from  the  western 
II 


242 


AROUND   TJIE    WORLD. 


iiiinii 


horizon  almost  to  the  zenith.  The  cause  of  it  is,  I  be- 
lieve, unknown,  although  they  tell  nje  it  is  thought  to 
be  some  ref'"action  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  sun. 

Jan.  19. — St.  John's  Island  is  the  only  land  we  have 
seen  to-day. 

We  are  entering  the  region  of  the  flymg-fish,  though 
as  yet  we  have  only  seen  some  very  small  ones  around 
the  steamer. 

They  have  an  invention  on  this  ship  for  fanning 
the  passengers  when  they  are  at  dinner.  There  are 
long  poles  suspended  horizontally  from  the  ceiling  by 
heavy  cords;  a  piece  of  white  linen,  made  double  to 
catch  the  air,  ibout  a  foot  and  a  half  wide,  is  attached 
to  the  poles  ;  the  whole  contrivance  is  moved  by  means 
of  cords  and  pulleys,  and  there  are  little  Hindoo  boys 
who  swing  them  back  and  forth,  making  a  refreshing 
breeze  the  whole  length  of  the  saloon ;  they  are  called 
punkahs. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  we  are  on  our  way  home, 
although  just  now  every  day  takes  us  further  from  it. 
It  requires  no  small  amount  of  patience  to  write  at  sea; 
a  gentle  breeze  every  now  and  then  making  my  paper 
dance  around  the  saloon. 


XXX. 

INDIAN    O  C  K  A  N . 

TKOl'ICAI,  DREAMINFSS  — SHAM  DANGERS  —  A  DINNER  THAT  WON  A 
FORTRESS — MERMEN  AND  THEH<  CHANT — THE  HEVF — PECULIARITIES 
OF  ADEN— INCIDENTS  OF  OCEAN  LIFE — THE  'SOUTHERN  CROSS" — 
A    DITTV. 


Steamer  "Australia,"  Indian  ) 
Ocean,   January.  \ 

We  arc  glivdmg  on  and  on  in  a  dreamy  way.  There 
is  a  wonderful  fascination  in  doing  nothing,  when  you 
once  get  accustomed  to  it.  Indeed,  the  cHmate  of  the 
tropics  takes  all  the  energy  out  of  one,  so  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  do  anything  but  dream.  It  requires  an 
effort  f:o  make  up  one's  mind  even  to  write  a  letter 

We  lounge  on  deck  all  day  and  far  into  the  night, 
only  coming  down  to  our  meals  and  to  bed.  There  we 
sit,  eager  to  catch  every  breath  of  air  made  by  the  mo- 
tion of  the  ship — the  monotony  broken  once  in  a  while 
by  a  sudden  exclamation  and  a  rush  to  the  side  of  the 
ship  in  order  to  sec  some  new  wonder  of  the  deep,  or  some 
strange  effect  in  the  sky.  Everybody  is  supposed  to 
have  something  to  keep  thcrn  busy — a  book,  or  a  piece 
of  work,  or  a  game  of  some  k<nd  ;  but  if  you  glance 
around  the  deck,  you  will  find  they  have  little  interest 
in  their  occupation,  but  spend  most  of  the  time  gazing 
listlessly  at  the  water  and  the  clouds,  or  ii  following  the 
sailors  with  their  eyes,  as  they  climb  among  the  rigging 
of  the  ship,  ever  busy  at  something — loosening  or  fast- 

(243) 


Wr 


244 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


cning,  tying  or  untying — for  if  there  is  no  work  for 
thcm  the  captain  makes  some,  no  matter  what,  so  it 
keeps  them  from  becoming  lazy  and  good-for-nothing. 
For  instance,  they  pretend  that  the  vessel  is  on  fire, 
so'.md  the  alarm,  and  rush  around,  arranginj^  the  ma- 
chines and  working  the  hose,  just  as  if  it  was  really  so ; 
a  band  of  sailors  are  sent  to  man  the  boats,  the  numer- 
ous fastenings  are  undone  with  wonderful  rapidity  ;  the 
oars  are  placed,  and  all  made  ready  to  be  lowered  at  an 
instant's  notice.  By  this  cime  the  hose  has  done  its 
imaginary  work,  the  fire  is  extinguished,  and  they  all 
go  about  arranging  things  in  their  accustomed  order. 
These  sham  dangers  are  VQiy  lively  and  amusing. 

The  last  day  or  two  we  were  on  the  Red  Sea,  we 
signaled  passing  vessels  with  colored  lights.  In  the 
evening  it  looked  very  pretty  to  see  the  blue  or  red 
glimmer  appearing  way  out  in  the  darkness.  There 
have  been  several  wrecks  on  ^his  treacherous  sea  within 
a  short  time.  One  we  passed  near  Suez,  and  another 
much  farther  south  ;  the  last  one  was  still  lying  against 
the  rock  where  it  struck. 

Just  at  the  mouth  of  the  Red  Sea  are  twelve  islands 
in  a  cluster,  called  the  Twelve  Apostles.  Judas,  a  bar- 
ren little  one,  is  some  distance  from  the  rest.  Thc.e  is 
another  interesting  island  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
straits  of  Babcl-Manc  jb,  so  that  all  ships  have  to  pass  it 
either  on  one  side  or  the  other  to  leave  or  enter  the 
Red  Sea.  The  English  have  a  fort  and  garrison  sta- 
tioned on  it,  for  it  is  the  key,  one  might  say,  to  all 
their  colonies  in  India  and  the  islands  of  the  Indian 
Ocean,  since  the  Suez  Canal  has  been  opened.  A 
few  years  ago  it  was  uninhabited,  and  no  one  claimed 
it.  While  the  :anal  was  being  talked  about,  the 
French  Government  sent  out  a  vessel  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  island  in  the  name  of  France.     When 


IXDIAX  OCEAN. 


245 


they  reached  Aden,  the  officers  of  the  I^Vench  slnp  were 
invited  to  dine  with  the  British  Governor  of  that  place. 
Under  the  influence  of  the  good  dinner  and  the  wine, 
one  of  the  Frenchmen  chanced  to  let  slip  their  inten- 
tion. Then  the  Governor  very  quietly  took  a  card  and 
wrote  out  orders  to  send  a  British  manof-war  imme- 
diately and  take  possession  of  the  island  of  Perim,  as  it 
is  called ;  he  then  took  care  to  entertain  his  fjuests  un- 


NuiMT  AT  Sea. 

til  a  very  late  hour  You  can  easily  imagine  the  dis- 
may of  the  French  captain  on  arriving  there  the  next 
morning,  to  find  the  flag  of  Great  Britain  waving  tri- 
umphantly over  the  island.  There  it  has  remained 
ever  since. 

While  we  were  at  Aden,  all  the  ships  from  different 
countries  that  were  in  the  harbor  fired  off  salutes  to 
the   English,  in    honor  of   the  Duke    of  Edinburgh's 


ii; 


Wf 


246 


ANOUXD  THE   WORLD. 


wedding.  It  sounded  like  a  bombardment,  and  we 
were  right  in  the  midst  of  it. 

January  22,  early  in  the  morning,  we  found  ourselves 
lying  in  the  harbor  of  Aden.  I  hurried  on  deck  as 
quickly  as  possible.  There  were  about  a  dozen  little 
Somali  boys,  with  log  canoes,  diving  and  swimming 
about  the  vessel  like  fishes.  They  came  from  the 
African  coast  just  opposite  Aden.  They  wore  scarcely 
any  clothing,  and  their  skin  was  a  pleasing  bronze 
color,  not  coal  black  like  the  Nubians,  nor  yet  yellow 
like  the  Arabs.  Their  limbs  were  slender  and  graceful, 
and  their  faces  very  bright  and  intelligent.  We  have 
no  idea  of  real  Africans  in  America ;  we  do  not  see 
fair  specimens.  This  race  have  their  own  chiefs  or 
sheiks,  being  much  like  our  Indians,  and  they  are 
quite  free  and  independent,  though  I  believe  they  are 
nominally  subject  to  the  Sultan  of  Turkey. 

How  we  enjoyed  watching  these  little  monkeys  in 
the  water.  They  swam  around  us  all  day ;  in  fact,  they 
are  as  much  at  home  in  the  water  as  on  land.  They 
would  go  through  all  sorts  of  antics,  pretending  to 
fight  with  their  fists  and  feet,  shoving  each  other  under 
the  water  and  popping  up  again,  rolling  over  like  por- 
poises, and  sliding  in  and  out  of  the  canoes  like  eels. 
Sometimes  the  gentlemen  on  board  our  ship  would 
throw  over,  one  at  a  time,  silver  sixpences  or  rupees  ; 
as  quick  as  a  flash  five  or  six  of  them  would  dive  after 
it,  no  matter  where  they  happened  to  be,  in  the  canoe, 
on  the  steamer,  or  in  the  water,  they  seemed  to  go 
down  all  in  the  same  spot  without  interfering  with 
each  other  in  the  least.  When  the  money  went  in,  we 
heard  half  a  dozen  splashes  or  so — saw  several  pairs  of 
feet  kicking  just  under  the  surface  ;  then  all  was  silent 
for  a  moment  or  more,  after  vvhich  the  heads  would 
begin  to  pop  up,  one  after  another,  each  boy  taking  a 


INDIAN  OCEAX. 


247 


long  breath  and  clashing  the  water  from  his  eyes.  The 
one  who  got  the  silver  would  stick  it  in  his  mouth  and 
be  ready  for  the  next  opportunity ;  if  it  came  immedi- 
ately, down  they  all  went  again  without  stopping  an 
instant.  They  had  picked  up  a  few  words  of  English. 
I  think  I  shall  always  remember  their  song  as  they 
floated  around,  with  only  their  heads  in  sight,  asking 
if  any  one  wanted  to  see  them  dive  for  a  sixpence.  It 
was  more  like  a  rude  chant  than  a  song,  reminding  me, 
not  of  mermaids,  but  of  mermen.     One  would  begin, 

"  Hab  a  clil)e  ?     Ho  !  ha  !  " 


Then  they  would  all  join  in, 

"  Ho  !  ha  !     Ho  !  ha  !     Hab  a  dibe  ?     Ho  !  ha  ! 
Ho  !  ha  !     Hab  a  dibe  ?  " 

The  tune  is  ringing  in  my  ears  yet.  Hearing  them 
speak  their  native  language,  it  seems  made  up  of  r's, 
they  roll  and  prolong  them  so  ;  it  is  musical  though, 
especially  when  spoken  by  the  boys. 

We  went  ashore  for  awhile  during  our  stay  in  the 
harbor.  Aden  is  dreadfully  barren  and  sandy,  and  oh  ! 
such  a  scorching  sun  ;  I  think  if  I  had  remained  half 
an  hour  longer  I  should  have  had  a  sunstroke  ;  as  it 
was,  my  head  seemed  on  fire  all  day,  and  it  made  me 
feel  faint  and  sick  even  after  we  were  on  board  and 
under  the  awning.  The  sun  beat  right  through  my 
hat,  and  the  sand  was  so  hot  that  I  could  feel  it  burn 
through  my  shoes.  I  don't  wonder  that  the  inhabitants 
live  half  of  the  tiine  in  the  water  and  wear  scarcely  any 
clothes ;  but  thei»*  skulls  seem  to  be  so  baked  they 
don't  mind  <^he  sun  any  more.  They  have  a  queer 
fashion  of  twisting  up  their  hair  so  it  looks  like  short 
ropes  hanging  arc  .md  their  heads.  They  are  very  fond 
of  dyeing  it  red  and  yellow,  whic!.  they  do  with  some 


i  H  i 
\    ' 

!    -'i 

r 


w^ 


248 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


li!  I 


ill 

I        M.lli 


kind  of  clay  which  they  put  on  their  heads.  We  saw 
one  fellow  with  his  head  all  plastered  over,  and  we 
thought  at  first  it  was  to  protect  it  from  the  sun,  but 
we  learned  that  he  was  going  through  the  operation  of 
dyeing  it. 

The  town  of  Aden,  together  with  the  British  canton- 
ment, are  situated  in  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano. 
There  are  some  very  ancient  tanks  near  by  that  supply 
them  with  water.  I  believe  they  are  quite  curious,  and 
so  old  that  nobody  knows  when  or  by  whom  they  were 
built,  so  (as  is  generally  the  case  with  such  things)  they 
are  called  Moses'  Tanks.  The  sun  was  too  hot  for 
me,  however,  so  I  did  not  attempt  to  visit  them. 

If  we  were  on  land  now  instead  of  the  water,  I  think 
the  heat  would  kill  us  outright.  As  it  is,  we  are  not 
any  too  cool,  I  assure  you,  and  we  shall  be  continually 
approaching  the  equator  until  we  reach  Singapore. 

Jan.  23. — We  weighed  anchor.  "A  life  on  the  ocean 
wave  " — nothing  very  eventful — no  land. 

Jan.  24. — Still  in  the  Gulf  of  Aden,  but  we  have  had 
the  African  shore  to  the  south  of  us  ;  and  passed  a  queer- 
shaped  promontory,  called  Elephant  Hill,  from  its  re- 
semblance to  that  animal.  By  looking  through  the 
captain's  spy-glass  wc  have  been  able  to  see  some  small 
Somali  villages,  and  also  two  or  three  very  antique- 
looking  boats  that  trade  along  the  coast  of  Africa. 
The  captain  tells  us  they  are  made  just  as  they  were 
hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  are  about  the  only  vessels 
that  can  land  along  this  coast  in  many  places;  they 
are  used  altogether  by  the  natives. 

At  sunset  we  saw  the  Cape  of  Guardafui ;  early  to- 
morrow morning  we  shall  pass  south  of  the  island  of 
Socotra  and  take  a  direct  course  to  Point  de  Galle, 
Ceylon. 


INDIAN  OCEAN. 


249 


Jan.  25. — This  morning  we  saw  a  hundred  or  more 
fishes  jumping  in  and  out  of  the  water,  one  after  another 
in  a  long  Hne  ;  the  drill  they  seemed  to  be  In  was  won- 
derful. I  am  told  they  hunt  their  prey  in  this  way ; 
they  arc  something  like  porpoises  and  are  called  Bo- 
nitas. 

There  are  so  many  crosses  among  the  stars  here  that 
there  has  been  some  dispute  as  to  the  true  one;  but 
last  night,  or  rather  this  morning  about  frur  o'clock,  I 
saw  the  genuine  Southern  Cross  for  the  first  time. 
The  captain  showed  it  to  us  ;  it  is  really  very  beautiful. 
I  have  never  until  to-day  seen  a  rainbow  on  the  ocean ; 
it  made  a  perfect  arc,  rising  out  of  the  water  in  one 
place,  and  falling  into  it  in  another. 

Jan.  26. — More  flying-fish,  and  very  pretty  jelly-fish 
around  the  vessel. 

Jati.  28. — We  shall  probably  reach  Ceylon  on  the  first 
of  February.  In  the  meantime,  the  days  come  and  go 
unconsciously  to  us — we  can  scarce  tell  one  from  an- 
other. I  have  just  been  singing — all  by  myself — to  the 
music  of  the  ripples  against  the  ship's-side,  this  little 


SEA-SONG. 

Dreamily,  dreamily,  glide  we  along — 

The  waves  never  ceasing  their  murmuring  song. 

Lazily,  lazily,  flit  the  days  by. 

As  we  gaze  on  the  varying  ocean  and  sky. 

Gently,  so  gently,  we're  rocked  on  the  wave 
That  I  can  play  jackstraws  and  Uncle  can  shave  ! 

II* 


\  m 


XXXI. 

A  CINGALESE    HEROINE. 

ODD  SIGHTS  AND  SCENES — MAHOMETAN  SAH.ORS — CHRIS  IINA  THE  CIN- 
GALESE GIRL,  AND  LITTLE  EVY  —  SAVED  EROM  DEATH — BROKEN 
ENGLISH — A   PASSING   CLOUD. 


iim 


Row  like  a  beautiful  romance  seem  those  days  and 
weeks  we  spent  in  sailing  down,  down  the  Red  Sea  and 
through  the  Indian  Ocean  !  IIow  unlike  anything  I  have 
ever  seen  were  the  sky,  the  sunsets,  the  strange  fish  float- 
ing past  us  in  the  water,  and  the  very  sailors  themselves — 
grim,  solemn-looking  Hindoo:^, — who  moved  around  the 
vessel  as  noiselessly  as  ghosts  (only  not  as  white  by  any 
means),  following  the  voice  of  the  boatswain  as  he  gave 
his  orders  in  their  own  language ;  now  all  pulling  to- 
gether at  the  ropes,  then  creeping,  singly,  among  the 
rigging,  always  busy  and  always  quiet.  How  different 
from  our  own  ''jolly  tars,"  who  are  continually  singing 
and  calling  out  to  one  another ! 

What  a  laugh  we  had  one  day  to  see  these  funereal- 
looking  men  jumping  around  and  running  up  the  ropes 
like  so  many  monkeys,  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  pig. 
They  were  all  Mahometans,  and  this  poor  animal  had 
just  escaped  from  the  butcher,  who  was  about  to  kill  it 
for  dinner.  It  was  a  strange  scene — the  little  pig  rush- 
ing over  the  deck  and  squealing,  with  the  butcher,  and 
a  few  Chinese  sailors,  "  pig-tails  "  flying,  trying  to  catch 
him,  and  the  Mahometans  in  great  distress,  lest  they 
should  be  touched  by  so  unclean  an  animal,  scrambling 
(250) 


A   CINGALESE  HEKC/.VE. 


251 


down  the  hatchways  and  up  the  rigging.     All  the  pas- 
sengers were  in  a  roar  of  laughter. 

The  vessel,  called  the  "  Australia,"  which  bore  us 
from  Lgypt  to  Ceylon,  was  one  of  the  largest  belonging 
to  the  P.  and  O.  Company,  which  carries  the  mails  be- 
tween England  and  the  East  Indies.  It  had  come  all 
the  way  from  Southampton,  passing  through  the  Bay 
of  Biscay,  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  the  Mediterranean, 
and  the  Suez  Canal  before  we  boarded  it.  Most  of  the 
passengers  were  English  people. 

The  first  person  who  attracted  my  attention,  when  I 
began  to  look  around  at  my  fellow-travellers,  was  a 
beautiful  Cingalese  girl,  who  stood  on  the  deck  with  a 
European  child  of  about  two  years  old  in  her  arms. 
They  made  a  more  beautiful  picture  than  any  i  had 
seen  in  all  the  Italian  art  galleries. 

The  Cingalese  inhabit  the  southern  part  of  the  Island 
of  Ceylon.  This  girl  was  sixteen  or  seventeen,  though 
small  for  her  age  ;  her  complexion  was  of  a  soft,  decid- 
edly brown  tinge,  and  she  had  such  beautiful  dark  eyes, 
and  so  sweet  and  intelligent  a  face  that  one  could  not 
help  being  drawn  towards  her.  Her  silky,  jet-black 
hair  was  twisted  in  a  coil  and  fastened  with  a  small  tor- 
toise-shell comb.  She  had  the  prettiest  little  dimpled 
hands,  and  bare,  brown  feet  that  just  showed  under  her 
red  petticoat — a  garment  that  readily  dispensed  with 
what  are  to  us  indispensable  bothers — dressmaker,  pat- 
tern, needle,  thread,  and  thimble  —  being  simply  a 
straight  piece  of  cloth  wrapped  around  the  waist  and 
lapping  over.  A  little,  loose  white  jacket  barely  reach- 
ing to  the  waist,  and  cut  half  low  in  the  neck,  completes 
the  Cingalese  costume  which  she  wore.  In  addition  to 
this  I  noticed  on  her  neck  a  coral  necklace  with  a 
handsome  gold  locket  attached. 

The  child  she  carried  was  no  less  attractive  than  the 


m 


IK 


252 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


nurse.  She  seemed  to  be  a  delicate  little  creature, 
white  as  a  lily,  with  those  deep,  violet  eyes  that  seem 
as  if  you  could  look  far  down  into  them,  and  with  that 
spiritual  expression  you  sometimes  find  in  a  delicate 
child.  Her  little  white  arms  were  clasped  tightly 
around  the  nurse's  neck,  and  when  I  went  up  and 
spoke  to  her,  she  tucked  down  her  fair  curly  head  ; 
but  we  soon  made  friends. 

The  mother  of  the  child,  Mrs.  M ,  and  her  little 

son,  who  was  seven  years  old,  with  the  nurse  and 
baby,  were  returning  from  England,  where  they  had 
gone  to  escape  the  hot  months  in  India.  She  was 
now  bound  for  Point  de  Galle,  Ceylon,  where  her  hus- 
band resided  with  her  other  children  whom  she  had 
left  there. 

It  was  Mrs.  M who  told  us  this  story  of  the  Cin- 
galese girl.  The  baby,  whom  they  called  Evy,  was 
born  in  Ceylon,  and  like  most  European  children  raised 
in  these  hot  climates,  was  delicate,  besides  which,  an 
accident  happened  to  her  when  she  was  very  young. 
The  woman  who  had  always  been  her  nurse,  a  native 
of  the  island,  went  out  one  day  for  a  walk  with  the 
baby  in  her  arms. 

All  the  roads  around  Point  de  Galle  wind  here  and 
there  among  the  cocoa-nut  groves,  the  luxuriant  foliage 
drooping  over  them  in  such  a  way  that  one  may  be  in 
a  very  secluded  and  wild  place,  though  within  a  few 
minutes'  walk  of  the  settlement.  It  was  in  some  such 
spot  that  the  nurse  met  her  father,  who  was,  by  the 
way,  a  hanger-on  of  the  foreigners,  and  professed  to  be 
a  Christian,  though  he  was,  in  reality,  a  disgrace  to  the 
name.  Being  either  intoxicated,  or  in  a  frenzy  of  pas- 
sion, he  attacked  the  woman  with  a  club  and  murdered 
her.  While  he  was  beating  her,  she,  in  the  pain  and 
agony  of  death,  was  squeezing  little  Evy  tighter  and 


A  CIXGALESE  ///-JiOIJVE. 


253 


tighter,  and  would  have  killed  her  in  this  way — even  if 
the  child  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  the  blows, 
any  one  of  which  would  put  an  end  to  her  frail  little 
life — had  not  the  Cingalese  girl  I  have  described,  then 
nearly  fifteen,  who  happened  to  be  passing  at  the  time, 
rushed  bravely  forward,  and,  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life, 
wrenched  apart  by  main  force  the  arms  of  the  now 
dying   woman,    and    escaped    unhurt    with    the    child. 

In    a   short   time  she   appeared    before    Mr.    M 's 

house,  panting  with  excitement  and  the  run  through 
the  burning  heat,  and  put  little  Evy  in  her  mother's 
arms. 

The  girl  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English  at  that 
time,  but  her  looks  and  the  blood-stains  on  her  dress 
told  enough.  The  story  was  soon  spread  ;  but  imagine 
the  gratitude  of  the  parents  to  this  little  heroine ! 
They  took  her  into  their  hou3e,  that  she  might  still 
take  care  of  the  child  she  had  saved,  and  had  her  bap- 
tized a  Christian.     Mrs.  M gave  her  the  name  of 

Christina  in  honor  of  this  event,  and  that  is  what  we 
called  her  on  the  ship.  I  wish  I  could  remember  her 
pretty  Indian  name ;  she  told  me  what  it  was,  but  I 
have  forgotten  it.  The  locket  she  wore  contained  on 
one  side  a  picture  of  little  Evy,  and  on  the  other  these 

words  :  ''  To  Christina,  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  M ,  in 

grateful  remembrance  of  her  heroic  conduct  in  saving 
the  life  of  their  child."  Then  followed  the  day  of  the 
month  and  the  year  in  which  it  happened. 

I  used  to  like  to  hear  her  talk  in  broken  English. 
Sometimes  she  would  sing  Mother  Goose's  melodies 
to  the  baby  with  a  real  quaint,  pretty  accent.  She  had 
a  sweet  voice,  and  once  in  a  while  I  could  hear  her 
singing  softly  in  some  language  I  did  not  understand, 
what  I  supposed  were  some  of  her  rude,  native  songs. 

I  asked  her  how  she  liked  England.     She  said,  "  It 


i! 


19 


254 


aroUaWD  the  would. 


very  nice,  zcy  very  kind  to  me,  but  ough  !  it  zo  dread- 
ful cold — I  most  freeze  zare." 

"Why!"  said  I,  "  I  live  in  a  country  that's  colder 
than  England." 

*'  Oh  !  "  she  said,  opening  her  large  eyes  and  looking 
as  if  r>he  hardly  believed  me,  "  colder  zan  England,  how 
can  live  zare  ?  " 

We  had  just  begun  to  get  acquainted  so  that  she 
would  talk  to  me,  when  the  little  baby  was  taken 
sick,  and  for  several  days  we  thought  it  would  die. 
The  bright  little  creature  had  enlivened  the  whole 
voyage,  and  a  gloom  fell  over  all  the  passengers  during 
those  few  days.  Christina  stayed  with  it  all  the  time, 
and  I  saw  very  little  more  of  her  until  a  day  or  two 
before  we  rcacln  d  Point  de  Gallc,  when  the  child  was 
well  enough  to  be  brought  up  on  deck. 

When  we  bade  them  *'  Good-bye  "  there  were  hopes  of 
Evy's  recovery,  and  Christina  was  in  great  glee  at  the 
idea  of  being  once  more  on  her  own  beautiful  island. 


XXXII. 


SCENES  IN  THE  TROPICS. 


A  SUNSET  ON  THli  ARAIIIAN  SKA — POINT  Dp  C.AI.I.E — AN  OI.l)  SPANISH 
PRIEST— A  BUDDHIST  TKMPI.K — A  COUNTKY  RIDE  IN  CEVI.ON — THE 
"  AUSTRALIA"  AND  Till.  "DK.l.III  " — PAY  OK  PKNnAI. — PF.NANr,  LAWYERS 
— HOT,    HOTTER,    HOTTEST  ! 

Steamer  "Delhi,"  Feb.  o. 

We  are  now  in  the  Straits  of  Malacca,  steaming  on 
toward  the  China  Sea. 

-  In  the  Arabian  Sea,  the  evening  before  we  reached 
Gaile,  I  saw  a  real  tropical  sunset,  and  a  rare  one  too  ; 
all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  many  strange  combi- 
nations besides,  that  I  have  never  before  seen,  nor  ex- 
pect to  see  again.  The  principal  color  in  the  western 
sky  was  a  lurid,  burning  red,  while  from  the  exact  spot 
where  the  sun  touched  the  horizon,  rays  of  bright, 
delicately-shaded  green  shot  off  and  upward  in  every 
direction,  growing  wider  and  wider  until  they  mingled 
with  the  innumerable  tints  that  extended  around.  We 
all  stood  gazing  over  the  stern  at  the  fiery  reflection  on 
the  ocean  and  the  glowing  sky,  when  I  turned,  thinking 
to  follow  the  colors  until  they  faded  gradually  toward 
the  west ;  but  instead  of  this,  the  whole  heavens  were 
aglow  with  a  warm,  soft  tinge  of  pink,  and  directly  in  the 
east  appeared  the  full  moon,  as  bright  and  glorious  as 
in  the  middle  of  the  night — its  beauty  rather  enhanced 
by  its  ruddy  setting.  And  now  we  could  not  complain 
of  the  monotony  of  the  ocean,  for  if  we  turned  toward 
the  west  it  seemed  bathed  in   fire,  and  toward  the  east 

(255) 


256 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


danced  the  cool,  silvery  reflection  of  the  moon,  reaching 
to  the  very  sides  of  the  vessel.  The  effect  was  magical ; 
even  the  tall  masts  and  spars  of  the  ship,  marked 
against  such  a  sky,  seemed  weird  and  unearthly.  Any 
one  looking  at  the  passengers  then  would  have  thought 
some  mischievous  water-witch  had  been  at  work,  for 
we  all  stood  as  if  spellbound,  scarcely  daring  to  breathe 
freely  until  the  last  tinge  had  vanished,  and  the  moon 
and  stars  had  the  sky  all  to  themselves. 

I  really  begin  to  feel  tired  of  seeing  so  many  wonder- 
ful things.  It  seems  as  if  I  were  galloping  through 
some  wild  dream  ;  there  is  almost  too  much  for  one 
poor  little  head  like  mine  to  manage. 

On  the  first  of  February  we  were  at  anchor  in  the 
harbor  of  Point  de  Galle.  It  seemed  a  beautiful  spot 
after  the  long  stretch  of  sand  and  sea  we  had  been 
passing  through.  We  had  hardly  seen  a  green  twig 
since  we  left  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  Here  the  cocoa- 
nut  palm  grew  down  to  the  very  edges  of  the  bay, 
which  makes  a  complete  circle,  with  the  exception  of 
the  nar«-ov.  passage  by  which  we  entered. 

Galle,  on  the  Island  of  Ceylon,  is  built  on  a  small 
peninsula,  surrounded  by  fortifications.  We  walked 
to  the  hotel,  where  we  found  a  cool  veranda  to  rest 
upon,  for  one  can  not  move  about  five  minutes  in 
this  climate  without  being  exhausted,  at  least  it  is  so 
with  foreigners.  We  were  there  in  the  cool  part  of  the 
year,  with  the  thermometer  nearly  a  hundred  in  the 
shade ;  imagine  what  it  was  in  the  sun  !  We  got  a 
banana-leaf  (which,  by  the  way,  is  three  or  four  feet 
long),  and  tore  it  up  in  pieces  large  enough  to  cover  the 
tops  of  our  heads.  It  is  very  thick  and  smooth,  and 
turned  out  to  be  a  splendid  thing  to  keep  the  sun  from 
baking  our  skulls.  Hats  and  parasols  are  not  of  much 
use  by  themselves  here. 


sc/-:jves  av  t///''.  tropics. 


257 


The  native  waiters  at  the  hotel  wore  English  side- 
whiskers  and  had  their  lorg  back-hair  tucked  up  and 
fastened  with  a  tortoise-sVell  comb. 

As  it  was  Sunday  morning,  the  passengers,  as  soon 
as  they  had  landed  and  begun  to  look  around  them, 
started  oft' for  the  different  churches.  We  drove  up  to 
the  Catholic  chapel,  which  is  situated  on  a  hill  outside 
the  fortifications,  hoping  tc  hear  Mass.  We  had  not 
been  in  a  church  since  we  left  Suez,  and  would  not 
have  another  chance  for  at  least  a  month,  perhaps 
never!  (That  last  misgiving  was  occasioned  by  the 
broken  masts  and  spars  which  we  could  see  sticking 
out  of  the  water  at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor,  where 
small  boats  were  going  and  coming,  while  men  were 
diving  for  crev.'  and  cargo).  When  we  reached  the 
summit  of  the  hill,  we  found  that  the  last  Mass  was 
over,  so  all  that  we  could  do  was  to  make  a  visit  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  A  little  native  Catholic  boy,  with 
a  single  short  white  garment  wrapped  around  his  waist 
— none  of  the  Cingalese  children  we  saw  wore  Dwrc 
than  this — and  a  large  rosary  hanging  around  his  neck 
and  dangling  against  his  dark  skin,  led  us  to  a  mere 
shed  made  of  rough  boards.  This  was  the  chapel ! 
The  little  Christian  who  guided  us,  having  obtained 
the  key,  unlocked  the  padlock  which  secured  the  door, 
and  opening  it  for  us  to  enter,  kneeled  reverently, 
pointed  to  the  rude  lamp  burning  before  the  small 
wooden  altar,  and  left  us.  In  an  instant,  by  some 
strange  freak  of  association,  I  thought  of  the  gorgeous 
interior  of  St.  Peter's,  which  we  had  so  lately  seen. 
What  a  contrast !  There,  we  could  imagine  the  glory 
of  Mount  Tabor;  here,  the  stable  of  Bethlehem. 

The  same  Cingalese  boy  who  had  opened  the  chapel 
door  for  us,  took  u  ;  to  see  the  priest,  who  lived  close  at 
hand.     He  led  us  to  a  little  bungalow,  consisting  ap- 


258 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


parently  of  two  rooms.  The  one  in  which  he  left  us 
while  he  ran  around  behind  the  house  to  announce  our 
arrival,  contained  benches  and  a  c-entre-table.  That 
was  all.  The  walls  weid  only  built  up  about  five  feet 
from  the  ground,  the  roof  being  supported  several  feet 
above  them  on  square  pillars,  thus  leaving  the  upper 
part  of  the  room  open  for  the  air  to  circulate  through. 
The  walls  of  the  back  room — which  was,  I  suppose,  the 
sleeping  apartment  —  were  built  up  to  the  roof  all 
around.  Vv'^hile  we  were  noticing  these  1.  ~^'cal  ar- 
rangements, one  of  the  quaintest,  the  most  picturesque 
figures  I  have  ever  seen,  entered  from  that  back  room, 
in  the  person  of  our  host,  an  old  Spanish  priest.  He 
was  a  man  of  large  frame,  with  a  fine  head,  a  whole- 
souled,  genial  smile,  and  a  long  gray  beard  that  rested 
on  his  flowing  white  cassock.  He  addressed  us  first  in 
Spanish,  which  we  did  not  understand,  and  then  in 
French.  In  that  language  the  conversation  was  con- 
tinued, a  little  uneasily  at  first,  for  none  of  us  felt  at 
home  in  it ;  but  the  next  moment  when  he  learned 
that  we  were  Catholics,  and  that  Uncle  was  a  p'  "::>^ 
his  delight  knew  no  bounds.  He  became  very  pt!' ;: 
ted,  his  eyes  lighted  up,  and  he  began  to  talk  very  las: , 
telling  us  ever  so  many  interesting  things  about  the 
country  and  the  missions,  and  gesticulating  vehemently 
where  his  French  failed  him.  He  would  also  interrupt 
himself  every  now  and  then  in  the  midst  of  a  strange 
account  of  some  young  Cingalese  saint  he  had  visited 
shortly  before,  to  say,  "  O,  if  you  could  only  speak 
Spanish  !  "  or,  "  Can  you  understand  my  French  ?  It  is 
so  bad."  Perhaps  it  was  because  he  noticed  how  eager- 
ly I  listened  and  how  I  strained  my  attention  to  catch 
the  meaning  of  his  excited  words.  Surely  this  old  mis- 
sionary's heart  was  in  his  work.  He  had  spent  years 
in  the  interior  of  the  country,  laboring  among  the  na- 


SCENES  IN  THE  TROPICS. 


259 


tives,  and  he  spoke  enthusiastically  of  the  converts  to 
Christianity. 

"  They  are  so  fervent,  so  brave,  so  anxious  to  be 
taught,"  he  said. 

Now  in  his  old  age  he  had  been  stationed  here  at  the 
foreign  settlement,  and  after  his  ardent  apostolate,  he 
seemed  to  be  grieved  beyond  measure  at  the  negligence 
and  dishonest}'  of  the  European  Catholics,  who  were 
mostly  in  the  employ  of  the  British  Governme'.t,  and 
held  positions  which  they  had  gained  more  or  less  at 
the  expense  of  their  religion.  It  was  hard  to  preach 
Christianity  to  pagans  who  were  constantly  cheated  and 
imposed  upon  by  Christians.  However,  in  spite  of  every 
discouragement,  he  was  building  a  pretty  stone  church  on 
this  same  hill,  and  he  showed  us  his  school-house  where 
the  Cingalese  children  were  taught.  We  saw  quite  a 
number  of  them  running  around  with  little  skirts  and 
beads,  like  our  first  acquaintance.  Before  we  left,  the 
old  Spanish  priest  offered  us  some  wine  from  his  own 
country,  which  he  considered  very  choice,  and  only 
brought  out  on  special  occasions.  He  also  showed  us 
his  little  garden  or  terrace  on  a  crest  of  tb?  hill  over- 
looking a  dense  grove  of  cocoanut  palms. 

We  next  saw  a  Buddhist  temple,  which  looked  like  a 
toy-shop,  or  a  museum  of  curiosities ;  there  was  every- 
thing you  can  imagine,  or  rather  you  can  not  imagine 
in  the  way  of  charms,  offerings,  and  ;dols,  elephants' 
tusks,  tigers'  claws,  beads,  pictures,  snake-skins,  every 
kind  of  monstrosity  carved  in  wood  and  stone,  and 
painted  with  glaring  colors. 

'  There  being  an  English  settlement  so  near,  they 
had  even  got  European  knick-knacks,  among  others 
some  French  dolls,  and  quite  a  large  picture  of  a 
Prussian  soldier  in  full  uniform,  colored  in  glowing 
something   like  the   circus  bills  one  sees  stuck 


style, 


Ijsil 


26o 


AROUND   'J HE   WORLD. 


\    ■ 


upon  fences.  These  last  seemed  to  be  highly  prized, 
and  were  put  in  a  conspicuous  place  to  be  worshipped 
with  the  rest.  There  happened  to  be  a  great  festival 
going  on  thit  day;  the  place  was  full  of  people,  and 
two  priests  were  reading  Sanscit  from  leaves,  instead 
of  books,  in  a  monotonous,  whining  chant.  In  another 
apartment  we  saw  Buddha  in  every  size  and  shape, 
made  of  bronze,  marble,  or  ivory,  all  of  beautiful  work- 
manship, but  anything  but  beautiful  in  form.  It  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  the  sex  of  the  idols,  and  the  men 
were  very  indignant  when  we  asked  if  one  of  these 
seated  deities  was  a  woman.  The  women  are  all  sla\  es 
here,  more  or  less.  We  did  not  venture  to  ask  many 
questions  alter  that.  In  front  of  the  statues  were  offer- 
ings of  flowers  and  eatables.  In  another  place  we  saw 
them  arranging  the  image  of  the  sacred  elephant,  with 
silver  chains  and  bright  clothes,  to  be  carried  in  a  pro- 
cession, which  took  place  at  night,  but  unfortunately 
we  could  not  wait  on  shore  to  see  it. 

We  had  a  long  ride  in  the  afternoon  through  the 
Wakwalla  valley,  and  a  fine  view  at  the  end  of  it.  How 
can  I  tell  about  a  drive  in  the  tropics?  I  might  talk  for 
a  week  without  telling  all  I  saw,  that  I  had  never  seen 
before,  or  the  many  things  that  I  had  not  even  heard 
of  It  was  so  strange  to  see  all  those  tropical  fruits 
growing;  there  were  cocoanuts,  pineapples,  bread- 
fruit, coffee-trees,  cinnamon  trees,  nutmegs,  jack-fruit. 

We  saw  a  stick  which,  when  whittled,  smelled  at  one 
end  of  camphor,  at  the  other  of  cinnamon,  and  in  the 
middle  of  cloves.  These  different  kinds  of  wood  had 
been  o-niftcd  on  the  same  tree.  Then  there  was  the 
traveller's  tree,  which  looks  like  an  immense  palm-leaf 
fan,  and  contains  water  that  is  drinkable,  which  you  ob- 
tain by  cutting  into  a  certain  part  of  the  leaf.  I  think  it 
is  well   named.     I  could  imagine  some   poor  traveller 


ii 


i    II 

41     1. 


SCF.NKS  I.V  THE   'JKOPICS 


261 


getting  lost  in  one  of  those  tangled  jungles  aid  coming 
across  such  a  tree — what  a  God-send  it  would  be! 

At  intervals  along  the  road  we  saw  the  pretty  little 
bungalows,  with  their  open  verandas,  nestled  among  the 
foliage  ;  and  the  native  huts  of  bamboo  and  palm-leaves, 
with  the  naked  little  black  children  running  around  and 
looking  like  monkeys,  or  at  least  just  as  wild.  Among 
them  we  saw  a  boy  who  had  the  leprosy  so  severely, 
that  his  skin  had  turned  as  white  as  an  Englishman's. 
There  is  another  dreadful  disease  we  saw  a  great  deal 
of  here — it  is  elephantiasis.  The  foot  and  ankle  swell 
until  they  are  the  size  and  shape  of  an  elephant's. 

We  took  the  "  Delhi  "  at  Gallc  ;  it  is  a  small  ship,  with 
a  cargo  of  opium,  but  there  are  only  about  eight  passen- 
gers for  Chi.. a,  and  we  have  had  a  very  pleasant  time 
playing  croquet  and  whist,  with  the  usual  amusement 
on  board  ship  of  indulging  in  perfect  laziness. 

The  ^'Australia,"  in  w^hich  we  came  from  Suez,  is  a 
faster  ship  than  the  ''  Delhi,"  especially  when  she  had 
discharged  a  quantity  of  her  cargo  at  Galle.  We  saw 
her  leave  the  harbor  of  that  town  about  half  an  hour 
after  us,  but  before  we  were  fairly  clear  of  the  coast 
she  overtook  us.  Instead  of  lessening  her  spc^d  a 
little  and  passing  behind  us  (as  her  course  was  north 
to  Calcutta  and  ours  east),  she  deliberately  swept  ahead 
of  us  and  crossed  our  bows  only  a  few  yards  in  front  — 
which  we  considered  a  very  cool  and  uncivil  proceed- 
ing indeed.  It  seemed  to  afford  our  old  fellow-passen- 
gers great  amusement,  and  they  cheered  tremendously, 
while  we  of  the  '*  Delhi "  good-naturedly  answered 
them  by  making  as  much  noise  as  our  small  number 
would  permit. 

'-  The  only  event  I  remember  that  relieved  the  monot- 
ony of  the  voyage  through  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  was  one 
day  when  a  flying-fish  flew  in  at  one  of  the  port-holes. 


.1 

I 


i 


262 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


which  gave  us  an  opportunity  of  examining  it  very 
closely.  Uncle  kept  one  of  the  wings  as  a  curiosity. 
Afterwards  the  first  mate  found  a  little  fish  not  more 
than  an  inch  long,  with  tiny  wings,  that  had  been 
washed  on  board  by  the  waves.  He  gave  it  to  me,  and 
the  doctor  put  it  up  in  a  vial  of  spirits  of  wine,  so  that 
I  might  carry  it  home. 

We  have  had  Bombay  pomeloes  for  dinner  several 
times  on  board.  It  is  a  fruit  I  never  heard  of  before, 
though  in  some  of  these  eastern  countries  they  believe 
it  to  have  been  the  "  forbidden  fruit  "  of  the  Garden  of 
Eden.  It  is  a  species  of  orange,  only  much  larger ; 
one  would  be  equal  to  a  dozen  ordinary  oranges.  They 
have  a  slightly  bitter  taste,  but  are  very  cool  and 
refreshing,  and  we  found  them  a  great  luxury  in  the 
hot  weather. 

Pcnang  is  a  beautiful  little  island  in  the  Straits  of 
Malacca,  and  here  we  had  a  second  drive  through  the 
tropics  as  interesting  as  the  first.  The  country  was  like 
a  coi  cinuous  park  or  grove,  the  roads  winding  off  in 
every  direction.  The  settlement  is  called  Georgetown, 
and  besides  the  Europeans  and  Malays,  there  are  quite 
a  number  of  Chinese  inhabitants.  A  characteristic  of 
the  place  are  the  ''  Penang  Lawyers."  They  are  very 
strong  canes,  with  great  rough,  heavy  heads,  made  of 
a  wood  peculiar  to  the  island.  I  dare  say  they  are  well 
named,  for  when  a  mighty  Briton  gets  into  a  quarrel 
with  a  native,  it  is  with  some  such  instrument  as  this 
that  he  administers  the  law. 

On  February  9th,  as  I  said  at  the  commencement  of 
this  letter,  we  were  passing  through  the  Straits  of  Ma- 
lacca. If  it  was  hot  at  Aden  and  hotter  at  Galle,  it  was 
certainly  hottest  here,  where  we  were  not  two  degrees 
from  the  equator.  (When  we  were  so  near,  it  seemed 
too  bad  that  we  could  not  cross  it).     Do  not  imagine  I 


SCENES  IN  THE   TROPICS. 


263 


have  been  writing  all  this  in  that  latitude  ;  no,  indeed 
I  gave  It  up  in  despair  before  I  had  wrf-en  two  pages' 
It  made  me  dizzy  to  try  to  think.      I  did  not  touch 
my  pen  again  until  we  had  turned  our  backs  on  the 
equator. 


m\ 


I  II 


XXXIII. 

CHINESE  TOWNS  AND  THE   MONSOON. 

SINGAfORr.  —  rilK  MKRMKN  AGAIN  —  CIIINESK  PAC.ODA  —  ALMOST  AN 
ACCIDENT — THE  CHINA  SEA — HONG  KONG — CHINESE  NEW  YEAR — 
SAMPANS — A    KKW    PEOl'I.K — PETWEEN    CHINA    AND    JAPAN. 

Monday  morning,  Feb.  lo,  we  found  ourselves  wind- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  hundreds  of  lovely  little 
islands  surrounding  Singapore.  There  had  just  been 
one  of  those  short,  heavy  rains  that  are,  I  believe,  com- 
mon to  the  tropics  ;  it  had  both  cooled  the  air  and 
made  the  foliage  fresh  and  green.  Near  the  landing 
is  the  "Spirit's  Island,"  which  the  natives  believe  to 
be  inhabited  by  "  His  Satanic  Majesty,"  so  they  are 
very  careful  not  to  trespass  on  his  domain. 

We  saw  a  ship  lying  at  anchor  which  has  particular 
charge  of  the  telegraphic  cable  between  Galle  and 
Hong  Kong.  It  was  a  curiously-shaped  affair,  with 
great  wheels  at  each  end  for  drawing  up  the  cable,  and 
all  appliances  for  repairing  it,  should  a  break  occur.  It 
seems  strange  to  think  that  telegraph  wires  run  around 
the  world  from  San  Francisco  to  Japan,  and  only  need 
to  cross  the  Pacific  in  order  to  complete  the  circle. 

When  we  were  moored,  what  was  our  surprise  to  hear 
the  old  tune  from  black  heads  floating  round  the  vessel, 
"  Hab  a  dibe,  Master — trow  sixpence  in  wat'r — a'  right." 
These  Malay  boys  turned  out  to  be  more  expert  than 
the  Somalis,  diving-  under  one  side  of  the  vessel  and 


(264) 


CHINESE  TO  WNS  AND  THE  MONSOON. 


265 


coming  out  on  the  other,  and  bcinj^  possessed  of  various 
marine  accomi.^iishments  ;  but  I  did  not  tliink  the)'  were 
as  handsome  as  the  httle  divers  at  Aden. 

The  wliarf  was  about  two  miles  from  Singapore,  and 
all  along  the  coast  were  fishing  villages.  These  were 
nearly  all  on  swampy  ground,  and  some  were  built  out 


Singapore. 


into  the  water,  on  high  poles.  I  do  not  know  what 
the  idea  was,  for  there  seemed  to  be  plenty  of  dry  land 
about. 

Singapore  is  a  real  Chinese  town.  We  went  through 
streets  and  streets  of  their  stores,  with  red  and  yellow 
signboards  and   immense  paper  lanterns  hanging  out. 


266 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


m 


Wc  saw  them  working  at  every  kind  of  trade — and  the 
water-carriers,  with  a  bucket  hanging  at  each  end  of  a 
pole,  which  they  carry  across  one  shoulder.  In  fact, 
everything  is  carried  in  this  way  —  sometimes  with 
baskets  instead  of  buckets — even  animals,  as  pigs  or 
chickens.  The  costume  of  the  Chinese  coolies,  or  day- 
laborers,  is  very  simple.  «  Imagine  a  garment  about 
the  length  of  the  skirt  of  a  Highlander,  with  a  straw 
hat  as  large  as  a  parasol,  coming  up  to  a  peak  in  the 
centre,  and  you  have  the  whole  rig.  The  babies  are 
dressed  up  in  scraps  of  different-colored  cloth,  so  that 
they  constantly  reminded  me  of  the  blinking  monkeys 
who  go  around  with  organ-grinders. 

After  great  difficulty  in  making  ourselves  understood, 
we  succeeded  in  seeing  a  Chinese  Pagoda.  The  build- 
ing looked  just  like  the  queer  pictures  of  such  things  I 
had  seen,  with  curved  roofs  and  rich,  twisted  carvings. 

When  we  went  in,  the  devout  heathen  were  lighting 
fire-crackers,  burning  paper  with  Chinese  characters  on 
it,  and  making  a  great  noise  and  smoke.  The  building 
was  quite  large,  having  several  courts,  one  inside  of 
another.  There  were  big  gods  and  little  ones,  devils 
red,  black,  and  blue.  Tables  were  set  before  them  with 
offerings  of  meat,  vegetables,  fruit,  and  candy.  The 
evil  spirits  have  the  best  of  everything,  for  they  need 
to  be  propitiated  and  kept  in  good  humor,  otherwise 
they  get  mischievous,  while  the  other  gods  are  too  good 
to  harm  any  one. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  from  the  temple,  as 
if  they  too  were  to  honor  the  gods,  theatrical  perform- 
ances were  going  on  un-aer  a  pretty  pavilion.  The 
dresses  of  the  performers  were  very  rich  and  fantastic. 
One  man  evidently  represented  a  clown,  and  we  saw 
the  people  laughing  at  his  jokes.  The  men  always  sang 
in  a  false  voice,  very  high  and  squeaky.     Of  course  we 


CHINESE  rO  WNS  AND   THE  MONSOON. 


267 


could  not  understand  what  was  said,  but  it  was  very 
amusing  to  watch  the  acting. 

The  vessel  had  received  her  coal,  and  we  were  all 
ready  to  leave  port  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  that 
we  might  get  clear  of  the  islands  before  dark.  How  it 
happened  nobody  knows,  but  certain  it  is  that  the 
"  Delhi  "  came  within  an  inch  of  sending  a  Chinese  junk, 
or  fishing  vessel,  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  Either  the 
fishermen  had  neglected  to  hoist  their  lights,  or  their 
nets  prevented  them  from  steering.  At  any  rate  they 
were  under  our  bows  before  the  steamer  could  be  turn- 
ed, and  just  grazed  along  the  whole  length  of  the 
vessel,  as  near  as  was  possible  without  being  knocked 
to  pieces. 

The  poor  fellows  were  dreadfully  frightened,  and  set 
up  a  howl  that  rang  in  my  ears  for  days  ;  we  were  all 
glad  to  hear  the  quarter-master  call  out  from  the  stern, 
"All's  clear,  capt'n  !  " 

My  remembrances  of  the  China  Sea  are  very  stormy. 
The  second  day  we  were  out,  the  north-east  monsoon 
or  trade  wind  caught  us,  and  we  had  to  struggle  against 
it  the  whole  way  up  to  Hong  Kong.  The  forecastle 
was  raised  above  the  main  deck,  and  most  of  the  time 
we  had  a  perfect  Niagara  pouring  over  there  and  roll- 
ing the  length  of  the  vessel. 

On  the  17th  we  saw  a  vessel  coming  toward  us, 
with  her  sails  all  set,  and  with  great  speed.  It  was  so 
provoking  to  think  that  the  very  wind  that  was  taking 
her  along  so  fast,  was  keeping  us  back  to  the  pace  of 
an  old  lame  horse.  The  wind  quieted  down,  however, 
as  we  got  under  protection  of  the  land,  and  about  eight 
o'clock  that  evening  we  were  lying  outside  the  harbor 
of  Hong  Kong  for  the  night. 

The  Chinese  New  Year's  festivities  were  going  on 
about  this  time,  February  18,  and  as  we  appeared  be- 


lli 


268 


.lA'OCWD  THE  WORLD. 


fore  the  town,  we  heard  noises  very  much  rcscmblinf^ 
those  of  the  l-'ourth  of  July.     The  shops  were  closed. 


:ik^JjiiM'QiK^- 


Ohinese  Towers. 


and  everybody  out  enjoying  themselves.     The  people 
ride  in  sedan  chairs,  carried  by  two  coolies — so  did  we. 


CHINESE    rOll'NS  AXD   IllE  .UOXSOOX. 


269 


EnglisIiiiK'ii  and  Chinese  talk  to  each  otlicr  by  means 
of  **  Pigeon  ICnglish  "  ( I'igcon  means  business).  To  go 
up-stairs  or  11  j)  a  hill  is  "  go  up  top-side."  Iking  my 
hat  is  "  go  catchee  my  piecee  hat."  If  you  wish  to 
convey  the  idea  that  a  man  died  and  went  to  heaven, 
you  must  express  yourself  thus  :  "lie  make  sky-i)igeon 
go  up  toj)-side." 

As  we  were  not  well  versed  in  Pigeon  I'nglish,  we 
had  considerable  difficulty,  and  weie  glad  to  be  back 
on  the  vessel,  where  we  could  watch  the  little  boats  of 
the  natives.  They  are  called  sampans,  and  have  two 
eyes  painted—  jne  on  each  side  of  the  bow;  for  the 
Chinese  say,  "  If  boat  no  have  eye  how  can  see?"  I 
am  afraid  the  eyes  are  not  of  much  use,  for  when  we 
tried  to  go  ashore  in  one,  it  seemed  to  be  knocking  and 
banging  into  everything.  They  have  bamboo  masts, 
and  sails  which  they  manage  with  great  dexterity. 
These  fishermen  families  seem  to  be  born  sailors  ;  thev 
cook,  sleep,  and  live  entirely  in  the  sampans.  The 
women  and  children  manage  them  perfectly.  You  see 
a  woman  (dressed  like  the  men)  with  loose  pants,  and  a 
gown  that  comes  almost  to  the  knee — with  a  baby 
tied  on  her  back,  sound  asleep,  with  its  head  bobbing 
about,  while  she  pulls  away  at  the  oars,  or  attends  to 
the  sail ;  and  perhaps  half  a  dozen  youngsters  are  rolling 
about,  making  you  think  every  moment  they  will  fall 
into  the  water.  These  little  boats  are  larger  than  row- 
boats,  with  a  cover  like  that  of  a  cradle  over  one  end 
of  them.  ~ 

Fed.  19. — Left  Hong  Kong  at  eight  o'clock  this 
morning  in  the  steamer  "  Behar."  commanded  by  Cap- 
tain A .     We  have  a  New  Zealand  quarter-master 

and  Malay  crew  —  fine-looking  sailors.  The  servants 
are  all  Chinamen.  There  is  not  even  a  stewardess  on 
board.     I  am  the  only  human  being  of  the  feminine 


2/0 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


gender  on  this  ship.  At  each  port  since  we  left  Egypt, 
we  have  dropped  some  of  our  old  passengers,  so  that 
as  we  continue  sailing  on   around  the  world,  we   are 


CHINKSK  ViSTTlNG. 


CHINESE  TO  VV.NS  AND   THE  MONSOON. 


271 


thrown  more  and  more  on  our  own  resources  for  amuse- 
ment and  occupation. 

At  Ceylon  we  parted  with  the  greater  number  of  our 
fellow-travellers,  among  them  the  interesting  Cingalese 
girl,  and  the  lively  English  clergyman  who  wrote  poetry 
about  watering-place  belles  and  railroad  conductors. 
At  Singapore,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  left  the  enthu- 
siastic little  Puseyite  who  was  going  to  convert  the 
Farther  Indians,  and  who  believed  in  everything  Cath- 
olic except  the  Pope.  He  had  his  calendar  of  saints, 
kept  all  the  fast  days,  shocked  the  solid  Episcopalians 
with  his  very  high-church  notions,  felt  hurt  when  I,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  spoke  of  Catholics  when  I  meant 
Roman  Catholics,  and  finally,  that  he  might  not  become 
inert  and  unfit  for  his  calling  during  the  hot  and  lazy 
voyage  through  the  Indian  Ocean,  he  chased  a  cat  up 
and  down  the  deck  every  evening  until  he  was  com- 
pletely exhausted  and  in  a  profuse  perspiration.  Then 
at  Hong  Kong  we  said  farewell  to  the  pleasant  young 
Englishman  and  his  charming  bride  (my  only  lady  com- 
panion for  weeks)  who  had  come  all  the  way  from 
Southampton  by  water,  who  had  both  been  sea-sick 
the  greater  part  of  the  time,  and  who,  in  spite  of  these 
trying  circumstances,  had  remained  just  as  devoted  and 
as  attentive  to  each  other  as  true  lovers  could  be. 
Japan  was  to  have  been  their  final  destination,  but  the 
China  Sea  had  tossed  them  so  unmercifully  that  they 
had  to  land  at  Hong  Kong  to  recruit  their  strength  be- 
fore attempting  to  cross  the  Eastern  Sea.  So  now  our 
companions  have  dwindled  down  to  two  or  three  oddi- 
ties, among  them  a  young  English  sportsman  on  his 
way  back  to  Japan  after  a  trip  to  his  native  land.  Ac- 
cording to  the  story  of  the  purser  on  the  "Australia," 
he  once  shot  two  cormorants  and  presented  them  to  a 
lady  in  Yokohama,  having  been  persuaded  by  a  friend 


i 


2/2 


AROUXD   Till:    WORLD. 


that  they  were  wild  ducks.  Discovering  his  blunder, 
he  sent  his  office-boy  to  buy  some  ducks  in  the  town, 
and  hasten  to  chauge  them  for  the  cormorants  which 
he  knew  to  be  still  lying  on  the  lady's  back  piazza. 
The  stupid  boy  bought  live  ducks.  The  next  time 
that  the  gallant  young  hunter  dined  with  his  lady 
friend,  she  called  him  to  account  for  the  remarkable 
fact  that  his  game  had  resurrected  shortly  after  being 
presented  to  her.  This  is  only  one  of  the  stories  we 
heard  at  the  expense  of  our  sportsman. 

Our  particular  friends  on  the  ship,  however,  are  two 
other  young  men.  One  of  them  is  very  business-like  ; 
he  has  been  sent  out  by  one  of  the  great  English 
foundries  to  establish  branch  houses  in  the  colonies, 
and  he  talks  learnedly  about  guns,  locks,  and  all  kinds 
of  iron  things.  He  is  accompanied  by  his  brother-in- 
law,  a  very  sentimental  young  man,  with  a  trunk  full 
of  the  works  of  the  poets.  He  repeats  poetry  of  all 
kinds  by  the  hour  on  star-light  nights,  but  he  is  princi- 
pally devoted  to  the  effusions  of  Eliza  Cook,  a  volume 
of  whose  works  is  ever  in  his  hand.  Uncle  and  T  hav" 
been  trying  to  teach  these  two  to  play  whist  with  us. 
The  iron  genius  has  learned  to  play  quite  a  good  game, 
but  the  Eliza  Cookist,  who  is  generally  my  partner, 
when  any  question  of  "thirteener"  or  "  returning  the 
lead  "  comes  up,  looks  piteously  across  the  table,  rolls 
his  eyes,  and  begins  to  spirt  poetry.  If  predictions 
come  true,  we  shall  have  too  much  tossing  between 
China  and  Japan  to  play  many  more  games  of  whist. 
At  present  we  are  sheltered  by  the  Chinese  coast,  and 
the  scenery  is  very  interesting.  We  have  once  more 
crossed  the  boundary  line  of  the  North  Temperate 
Zone,  and  it  is  getting  very  cold. 

Feb.  20. — Still  following  the  coast  to  keep  out  of  the 
monsoon  as  long  as  possible.  VVe  are  passing  islands, 
12* 


CHINESE  TO  WNS  AND  THE  MONSOON. 


2n 


islands,  islands,  all  mountainous — this  is  broken  China 
sure  enough.  The  captain  is  splendid.  He  mimics 
Chinese  songs  to  perfection,  and  sometimes  he  sings 
with  the  sailors  as  they  haul  the  ropes. 

Feb.  21. — We  have  now  cleared  the  island  of  For- 
mosa and  are  out  in  the  Eastern  Sea.     It  is  rough. 

Feb.  2:\ — Rougher  —  bumps,  bruises,  and  broken 
dishes.  It  was  fearful  to  watch  the  sailors  trying  to 
furl  one  of  the  large  sails  during  the  gale,  by  clinging 
to  the  masts  and  rigging  with  their  legs  or  with  one 
hand,  while  they  unfastened  it  with  the  other  —  sus- 
pended, as  they  were,  high  in  the  air  and  directly  over 
the  water.  Some  of  the  pulleys  got  out  of  place  and 
the  ropes  tangled,  while  the  great,  loosened  sail  was 
flapping  back  and  forth  in  a  wild  fury.  It  added  to 
the  clamor  of  the  wind  and  the  waves.  The  captain 
had  to  fairly  roa  out  his  orders  from  the  poop-deck, 
and  I  thought  every  moment  that  some  of  the  men 
would  be  knocked  off  into  the  sea. 

Feb.  25. — The  last  three  days  have  been  very  much 
alike.  The  monsoon  beats  against  us.  The  vessel 
leans  more  than  ever.  The  swinging  lamps  in  the 
saloon  make  an  angle  with  the  posts  of  about  forty- 
five  degrees  ;  the  floor  is  a  steep  hill.  Uncle  and  I  sit 
on  the  high  side  of  the  table,  and  our  soup,  tea,  and 
oranges  go  over  into  the  laps  of  the  iron  genius  and  the 
Eliza  Cookist.  Occasionally  the  ship  makes  a  jerk 
the  other  way,  then  we  are  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 
To-day  my  trunk  was  dashed  against  the  door  of  my 
state-room,  so  I  could  not  get  in  until  the  steward 
came  to  my  assistance.  The  other  evening  I  neglected 
to  put  my  shoes,  comb,  and  brush  in  the  little  brackets 
made  to  hold  them,  so  they  v;erc  banging  about  the 
cabin  all  night  at  the  risk  of  my  eyes  and  nose.  > 

Feb.  26. — Off  the  coast  of  Japan  ;  beautiful  scenery  ; 


1 
I 


n  ;ii 


t-lfii 


274 


A  ABOUND   THE  WORLD. 


Fusiyama  in  the  distance,  snow-peaked  ;  it  is  the  sacred 
mountain.     Anchored  near  Yokohama  at  nircht. 


Anciiorkd  near  Yokohama  at  Nkjut. 


XXXIV. 


UNCLE'S   OTHER   CHAPTER. 


THE  MARTYR-FIELD  OF  JAPAN — THE  MODERN  MISSIONARIES  AND  THEIR 
WORK — RESUI-TS  OF  ST.  FRANCIS  XAVIER'S  LAIiORS — TWELVE  THOU- 
SAND NATIVE  CHRISTIANS  DISCOVER  THEMSELVES  TO  THE  IIISHOP — 
OTHERS  INACESSIBLE — JAPANESE  SIGHTS  —  VESTIGES  OF  A  JESUIT 
MARTYR  AT  YEDO. 

Yokohama,  March  7. 

Dear  Reverend  Father:  —  I  trust  long  before 
this  you  have  received  my  letter  written  at  Cairo,  in 
which  I  endeavored  to  give  you,  in  some  sort,  a  graphic 
representation  of  the  Coptic  rites  as  they  appear  to  the 
eyes  of  an  uninitiated  observer.  ,  This  present  letter 
finds  me  on  another  ground  of  equal  interest  to  Catho- 
lic Christians,  namely,  the  martyr-field  of  Japan.  I 
send  you  a  few  items  of  intelligence,  hastily  enough 
picked  up  and  jumbled  together,  which  may,  neverthe- 
less, have  something  of  the  attraction  of  novelty.  To  me, 
at  least,  there  is  a  holy  charm  in  the  thought  that  I  am  in 
Japan  ;  and  as  I  say  my  early  morning  Masses  in  the 
little  Catholic  Chapel  of  Yokohama,  beneath  the  statue 
of  St.  Francis  Xavier,  I  can  easily  fancy  myself  sur- 
rounded by  invisible  eyes  that  v/atch  over  this  sacred 
soil  with  intense  interest  as  the  scene  of  their  mission- 
ary labors,  and  I  feel  that  the  breath  of  martyrs  is  in 
the  air.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  any  early  Catholic 
history  is  connected  with  the  precise  spot  where  I  now 
write.  I  am  not  aware  that  the  early  missionaries  pen- 
etrated to  this  side  of  the  island  of  Nippon,  nor  do  I 

(275) 


276 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


know  the  contrary ;  but  this  I  know — that  I  am  in 
Japan,  and  that  the  names  of  neighboring  towns  and 
islands  which  I  hear  pronounced  in  every  day's  dis- 
course, are  famiUar  names  in  the  history  of  St.  Francis 
Xavier,  and  of  the  early  missionaries  and  martyrs  of 
Japan.  I  will  tell  you  personally  all  I  know  of  the  re- 
mains of  this  earlier  Christianity.  First,  however,  a 
few  words  in  regard  to  what  the  Catholic  Church  is  do- 
ing here  in  our  day. 

The  missions  in  Japan  were  re-opened  in  1858  by  the 
French  missionaries  of  the  Congregation  called  Les 
Missions  Etrangtircs,  an  Order  distinguished  in  the  an- 
nals of  the  propagation  of  the  faith,  and  which,  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief,  has  given  more  mar- 
tyrs to  the  Church  in  our  day  than  any  other  society. 
These  fathers  at  first  commenced  their  labors  on  one 
of  the  small  islands  south  of  Nagasaki,  called  Loo 
Choo.  In  1870,  when  by  treaties  with  different  nations, 
Japan  was  opened  to  some  extent  to  foreign  tccupa- 
tion  and  commerce,  the  fathers  came  to  Yokohama, 
then  called  Kanagawa.  They  now  number  thirty  mis- 
sionaries, and  have  seven  stations ;  namely,  at  Nagasa- 
ki, Kobi,  Osaka,  Yokohama,  Yedo  or  Tokio,  Hakodate, 
and  Niigata.  They  are  presided  over  by  Monsignor 
Pctitjean,  from  Autun,  in  France,  both  as  Superior  of 
the  Order  and  as  bishop.  The  church  and  mission  at 
Yokohama,  where  the  bishop  resides,  is  committed  to 
the  more  immediate  charge  of  the  Rev.  P6re  Pettier, 
who  has  learned  to  speak  and  preach  in  English,  and 
devotes  his  personal  attention  to  the  foreign  population. 

Every  one  of  the  towns  above  named  (Yedo  excepted) 
has  about  twenty  miles  square  assigned  to  them  by 
treaty  as  limits  within  which  foreigners  are  allowed 
to  reside,  and  beyond  which  they  must  not  ven- 
ture without  an  epecial  permission  and  passport  of  the 


UNCLE'S  OTHER  CHAPTER.. 


77 


government.  This,  of  course,  constitutes  also  the 
boundary  to  which  the  labors  of  the  missionary  are 
restricted.  The  government  is  especially  jealous  of  all 
Christianity,  and  stands  ready  to  check  any  appearance 
of  successful  propagation  of  it,  although  to  a  certain 
extent  it  is  tolerated.  Christian  schools  are  not  al- 
lowed by  law.  The  Catholic  seminary  at  Yedo  exists 
only  by  toleration,  and  the  first  students  were  taken 
into  the  house  in  the  nominal  capacity  of  servants. 

I  said  a  little  while  ago  that  I  did  not  know  of  Chris- 
tianity having  spread  in  earlier  days  to  this  part  of  the 
island.  From  the  Rev.  P^re  Pettier,  who  has  just  left 
my  room,  I  now  know  that  it  did  extend  to  Yedo, 
which  is  only  twenty  miles  to  the  northward  on  the 
same  coast  and  in  the  same  bay.  Only  a  few  days  ago 
one  of  the  fathers  of  the  Yedo  seminary  discovered  in 
that  city  a  small  bridge,  called  by  the  people,  the 
Christian  Bridge ;  and  near  by  it  a  declivity  or  side  hill 
which  goes  by  the  name  of  Christian's  Hill,  which  con- 
tains the  grave  of  a  Christian  martyr.  The  pagan  pop- 
ulation have  not  only  preserved  this  tradition,  and 
these  relics,  but  (what  is  far  more  remarkable)  they 
consider  the  spot  to  be  sacred.  They  come  there 
to  pray,  and,  if  their  statements  may  be  trusted,  these 
prayers  are  sometimes  answered  by  the  healing  of  their 
diseases,  and  in  particular  by  the  restoring  of  sight  to 
the  blind.  There  is,  moreover,  in  the  same  city  a  street 
which  has  always  borne  the  name  of  Christian  street. 

It  is  well  known  to  the  Catholic  missionaries  that 
Catholics  are  still  to  be  found  in  the  northern  part  of 
this  island.  Not  long  since,  an  attempt  was  made  to 
establish  a  communication  with  them  and  furnish  them 
with  a  priest.  A  catechist  went  up  there  and  com- 
menced a  school.  He  then  petitioned  the  government 
for  permission  to  bring  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  Mis- 


278 


AROUND  THE   WORLD, 


sions  Etrang6res  to  his  school  as  professor,  which  was 
at  first  granted.  This  was  not  favorable  to  the  views 
of  certain  officials  of  the  Russian  Empire,  which  loves 
Japan  as  bears  love  honey.  They  represented  that  the 
object  of  the  petition  was  not  to  promote  educatio*^,  but 
to  teach  religion,  and  the  Japanese  authorities  were  in- 
duced to  retract  their  permission. 

It  was,  however,  in  the  southern  parts  of  Japan  that 
St.  Francis  Xavier  and  the  missionaries  who  followed 
his  footsteps  had  succeeded  best  in  the  establishment 
of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  there  it  is  one  would  most 
naturally  look  for  any  remaining  evidences  of  their 
work.  During  a  visit  of  Mgr.  Petitjean  to  Nagasaki  in 
1864,  he  saw  one  day  m  the  mission  church  an  old 
Japanese  woman,  who  was  praying  beneath  a  statue  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin.  Something  peculiar  in  her  manner 
attracted  his  attention,  and,  on  inquiring,  he  discovered 
that  she  did  not  belong  to  Nagasaki,  and  was  not  known 
to  any  of  the  missionaries. 

She  seemed  to  be  afraid  to  be  spoken  to,  and  an- 
swered questions  with  great  reluctance.  On  being 
pressed,  she  acknowledged  that  she  had  a  religion  which 
was  not  like  the  religion  of  the  country.  Holy  men 
had  taught  it  in  the  land,  she  said,  long,  long  ago,  but 
these  were  all  dead  and  gone,  and  there  were  no  teachers 
of  her  religion  left.  Being  confident  that  she  was  a 
Catholic,  and  one  that  derived  her  faith  from  the  old 
plantation,  the  bishop  endeavored  to  assure  her.  He 
told  her  that  he  knew  all  about  these  :,arly  teachers, 
that  he  himself  was  a  priest  of  the  same  religion,  and 
that  he  and  others  like  him  had  come  to  preach  that 
religion  once  more,  and  establish  the  old  worship  again 
amongst  them.  It  was  not  until  she  had  catechized 
him  very  closely  that  she  gave  him  full  confidence,  and 
became  satisfied  that  she  was  in  a  true  Catholic  church. 


UNCLE'S  OTHER  CHAPTER. 


279 


and  in  presence  of  a  real  priest.  She  tlien  acknowl- 
edged openly  that  she  was  a  Christian,  and  said  that 
the  neighboring  islands  were  full  of  others  like  herself 
who  held  to  that  faith,  though  secretly  and  in  constant 
fear  of  persecution.  She  had  heard  of  the  arrival  of 
strange  missionaries  at  Nagasaki,  and  had  come  there, 
though  with  great  fear  and  caution,  to  see  if  perhaps 
they  were  not  like  those  who  had  brought  the  faith  to 
Japan  three  hundred  years  before.  Joyfully  now  she 
returned  home  to  announce  the  glad  tidings  to  the  rest. 
The  missionaries  soon  found  themselves  surrounded  by 
a  multitude  of  native  Christians,  very  ignorant  indeed 
of  many  things  belonging  to  their  religion,  but  never- 
theless clinging  to  it  most  firmly  and  affectionately. 
About  twelve  thousand  of  these  have  thus  far  reported 
themselves  in  the  small  islanus  near  Nagasaki.  But 
unhappily  the  enthusiasm  with  which  they  crowded 
to  welcome  the  fathers  aroused  the  attention  of  the 
Japanese  government,  and  gave  rise  to  a  new  persecu- 
tion. Great  numbers  of  the  native  Christians  were 
arrested  and  imprisoned.  They  could  no  longer  come 
to  Nagasaki  without  punishment,  nor  were  the  fathers 
allowed  to  visit  them  at  their  houses.  It  is  supposed 
that  at  least  sixty  thousand  more  Catholics  are  in  Japan 
who  are  afraid  to  make  themselves  known.  Without 
priests,  without  any  authorized  or  qualified  teachers — 
without  any  means  of  offering  the  Christian  sacrifice,  or 
maintaining  any  public  worship,  without  the  succor  and 
consolation  of  the  sacraments,  and  all  the  while  in  con- 
stant dread  and  fear  of  persecution,  is  it  not  wonderful 
that  this  poor  hunted  and  isolated  band  of  believers 
should  have  maintained  the  Catholic  faith  for  so  many 
generations?  Only  one  sacrament  was  left  to  them — 
the  sacrament  of  baptism — and  this  has  been  perpet- 
uated amongst  them  by  a  class  of  men  whom  they 


28o 


AKOU.W  THE  WORLD. 


call  baptizcrs,  who  know  what  is  requisite  to  valid  bap- 
tism, and  transmit  the  knowledge  to  others. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  ere  long  these  Japanese  Chris- 
tians will  be  able  to  communicate  freely  with  the  mis- 
sionaries who  arc  so  near  them.  At  present  those  who 
come  over  to  Nagasaki  to  visit  the  church,  to  hear 
Mass  and  receive  the  sacraments,  dare  only  come   by 


TtAU'l.K,    WITH    ToMliS   OK   TllK   MiKADOS,   AT    KaMAKL  RA. 

night,  and  are  instructed  to  come  in  bands  of  not  more 
than  twenty  at  one  time.  When  the  fathers  go  to 
the  islands  to  visit  the  sick,  it  is  by  night  also,  and 
dressed  in  the  native  costume  ;  any  open  attempt  to 
propagate  the  faith,  or  even  to  communicate  with  the 
native  Catholics  outside  of  the  treaty  limits,  would 
arouse  the  jealousy  of  the  government,  and  draw  down 
its  anger  upon  their  heads. 


UNCLE'S  OTHER  CHAPTER. 


281 


I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  you   any  description  of 
Japan  or  the  Japanese.     In  a  stay  of  twelve  days  in  a 


1( 


strange  country,  one  does  not  become  v( 
although  he  sees  a  great  deal  that  is  novel  and  interest- 
ing. We  have  been  to  Yedo  and  to  Kamakura  ;  the 
latter  is  said  to  have  been  once  the  capital  until  it  was 
destroyed  by  an  earthquake. 

We  have  seen  the  great  sphinx-like  bronze  idol  of 
Daibootz,  who  holds  his  head  some  seventy  feet  liigh 
(so  I  am  told,  buv  1  could  not  measure  it).  He  has  the 
same  brooding,  introverted  look  which  characterizes 
the  sphinx.  We  went  inside  of  him,  but  did  not  find 
much  there  worth  contemplating.  Exteriorly  regarded, 
however,  he  is  a  grand  thing  to  see,  and  really  a  won- 
derful piece  of  art.  It  is  a  far  more  colossal  figure 
than  the  great  statue  of  Bavaria  at  Munich,  for  that  is 
standing,  while  Daibootz  is  represented  in  a  sitting 
posture.  We  saw  from  the  eastward,  as  we  entered  the 
gulf  of  Yedo,  the  sacred  mountain  Fusiyama,  14,000 
feet  high,  with  its  foot  in  the  sea,  and  its  head  hooded 
with  snow — a  perfect  cone  of  grandeur  and  beauty,  and 
superior  to  anything  of  the  kind  I  have  ever  seen  or 
ever  conceived.  We  have  wandered  about  among  the 
native  booths  both  in  Yedo  and  Yokohama,  and  seen 
much  that  is  strange,  curious,  and  beautiful.  But  it 
would  take  too  much  both  of  space  and  time  to  tell 
of  these  things  as  they  should  be  told,  and  I  therefore 
leave  it  all  until  some  day  when,  God  willing,  we  two 
may  have  the  privilege  to  sit  together  once  more,  and 
talk  the  time  away  at  leisure.  For  the  present,  farewell, 
and  may  God  have  us  both  in  His  holy  keeping  until 
we  meet  again. 

Ever  faithfully,  your  friend  and  brother, 

C.  A.  Walworth. 


I 


282 


AROUl^D  THE  WORLD. 


In  connection  with  Uncle's  allusion  to  the  spot 
known  as  the  Christian's  Hill  at  Ycdo,  and  the  miracles 
said  to  be  performed  there,  I  have  taken  the  liberty 
of  adding  another  account  of  the  same  place,  written 
by  a  Protestant  missionary.  It  was  clipped  from  the 
Ne^v  York  Evangelist ,  and  is,  I  think,  quite  apropos  : 

"  It  seems  that  over  two  hundred  years  ago,  a  Jesuit 
missionary,  an  Italian,  by  the  name  of  Jean  Baptiste, 
attempted  to  enter  Japan  in  disguise  (after  the  Christian 
religion  had  been  rooted  out  at  Nagasaki  and  else- 
where), apd  being  discovered,  he  was  brought  to  Yedo, 
and  confined  a  prisoner  on  this  'slope.'  lie  had  come 
to  Japan  in  a  Portuguese  vessel,  and  was  smuggled 
ashore  at  night  ;  but  after  this  nothing  was  heard  of 
him,  although  there  have  been  several  mentions  of  his 
mysterious  disappearance  in  some  Italian  books  on  the 
subject  of  Jesuitical  missions.  However,  while  engaged 
in  translating  so'  e  years  ago,  Dr.  Brown  came  acroijs 
an  old  Japanese  volume  marked,  *  Whoever  reads  this^ 
please  don't  tell,'  (!)  and  in  it  he  found  a  complete  and 
minute  record  of  all  that  ever  happened  to  this  Jesuit 
*  Jean,'  and  the  entire  account  of  his  mode  of  capture 
and  long  confinement  on  this  very  '  slope  '  where  we 
were  then  talking.  It  told  of  the  methods  used  also 
by  the  Japanese  to  gain  information  from  him  concern- 
ing foreign  countries,  and  of  the  strict  manner  in  which 
he  was  guarded,  lest  he  should  induce  others  to  em- 
brace his  Christian  heresy;  even  as  it  was,  I  believe  he 
was  instrumental  in  converting  two  or  three  persons 
about  the  prison  !  Dr.  Brown  sent  an  account  of  this 
man,  and  a  partial  translation  of  this  curious  book,  to 
an  Asiatic  society  in  China  some  years  ago.  But  I  do 
not  know  if  any  information  on  the  subject  has  ever  - 
been  published."       .  v 


XXXV. 

TH  E    JAPANESE. 

queer! — KJSIYAMA— JAPANESE   ART  —  CURIOSITY  —  JAPANESE    HOUSES 
AND  CUSTOMS— GIN-RIKSHARS—DAIBOOTZ. 


-J  Pacific  Ocean,  Steamship  "Alaska." 

Japan  is  a  funny  place,  though  there  are  a  few  very 
beautiful  things;  Fusiyama,  the  Temples  of  Shiba  at 
Yedo,  and  the  great  idol  of  Daibootz,  are  grand,  but 
everything  else  we  saw  was  funny,  even  we  ourselves 
were  funny,  at  least  to  the  Japanese.  If  we  showed 
ourselves  in  public,  we  caused  as  much  amusement  as  a 
Kentucky  giant  or  a  baby  elephant. 

The  first  sight  of  Fusiyama  (burning  mountain)  was 
glorious,  as  we  neared  it  from  the  sea.  Imagine,  if  you 
can,  a  volcanic  mountain  fourteen  thousand  feet  high, 
standing  entirely  alone,  sloping  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  with  its  summit  covered  with  snow,  and  directly 
behind  it  the  setting  sun.  Can  you  wonder  the  Japan- 
ese call  it  **  Sacred  Mountain,"  and  worship  it?  I  am 
sure  I  would  too,  if  I  had  nothing  better  to  adore  than 
their  old,  sleepy-looking  gods  and  dancing  demons.  It 
is  very  seldom  you  see  a  Japanese  picture  or  work  of 
art  without  Fusiyama  in  the  background. 

Yokohama  is  a  queer  mixture  in  the  way  of  national- 
ities. From  the  window  of  my  room,  which  o^/  ilooked 
a  part  of  the  foreign  settlement,  I  could  see  the  British, 
French,  and  United  States  garrisons,  distinguished  by 
the  flags  and  the  uniforms  of  the  sentinels.     They  are 

(233) 


284 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


all  situated  on  a  steep  hill  or  cliff,  washed  on  two  sides 
by  the  bay,  and  separated  by  a  creek  from  the  town. 

One  could  not  help  thinking  that,  with  this  well- 
chosen  little  corner,  and  the  half  dozen  men-of-war  ly- 
ing in  the  harbor,  the  "  foreign  barbarians  "  might  pro- 
tect themselves  against  the  "  Mighty  Empire  of  the 


FuSIYAiMA. 


Rising  Sun,"  should  the  latter  feel  inclined  to  resent 
their  presence. 

I  had  not  a  very  grand  idea  of  Japanese  art,  judging 
from  the  specimens  I  had  seen  in  America  on  paper 
fans.  Now  I  can  fully  appreciate  their  genius  and  cor- 
rectness of  drawing  from  nature — chose  fans  give  you  a 
better  idea  of  the  natives  of  Japan  than  the  most  learn- 


THE  JAPANESE. 


285 


ed  description  possibly  could.   The  dress,  the  attitudes, 
the  expressions  are  perfect.     I  can  not  say  as  much  for 
their    landscapes,   though    Uncle   admires   them       :  \ 
much. 

I  really  believe  the  Japanese  are  the  most  direct  de- 
scendants of  Eve,  and  each  one  has  inherited  twice  her 
share  of  curiosity.  We  amused  ourselves  often,  just 
counting  how  many  top-knots  would  pop  in  at  the  door 
of  our  room  during  the  course  of  an  hour,  to  see  what 
we  were  about.  Fortunately,  they  expect  other  people 
to  be  curious  too,  and  are  rather  pleased  than  other- 
wise, to  show  you  everything  they  have.  We  walked 
out  sjveral  times  into  the  country  around  Yokohama, 
among  the  rice  fields.  They  would  let  us  go  into  their 
houses  and  look  at  whatever  we  wanted  to  see,  and 
they,  in  turn,  looked  at  us ;  we  examined  their  costume 
and  they  ours ;  we  amused  ourselves  laughing  at  what 
was  comical  about  them,  as  they  did  with  us.  It  was  a 
mutual  entertainment.  Their  houses  are  all  low,  rarely 
more  than  one  story,  and  built  of  very  light  wood,  on 
account  of  the  frequent  shocks  of  earthquakes.  Wc 
only  entered  the  dwellings  of  the  common  people,  of 
course  ;  those  of  the  nobility  and  princes  are  on  a  much 
grander  scale,  though,  I  believe,  the  general  plan  is  the 
same.  The  houses  we  saw  were  mostly  made  very 
neatly  of  clay  or  earth  of  some  kind,  plastered  into  a 
light  bamboo  framework,  and  sometimes  over  this  a 
kind  of  rough  matting.  The  roofs  arc  thatched  with 
rice-straw,  made  into  a  pretty  ornament  at  the  top,  and 
the  entire  front  of  the  house  consists  of  paper  screens, 
that  slide  backwards  and  forwards,  serving  for  both  doors 
and  windows.  These  same  contrivances  form  the  divi- 
sions of  the  different  rooms,  so  that  they  all  can  be  slid 
aside,  making  the  house  into  a  single  apartment.  If  the 
cottage  is  large,  a  hall,  or  rather  pathway,  runs  through 


286 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


\ 


it  from  front  to  back,  which  has  no  other  floor  than  the 
bare  ground.     The  rooms  on  each  side  arc  raised  about 


A  Garden. 

a  foot  and  a  hah"  above  this,  and  are  covered  with  a 
very  pretty  white  matting,  that  is  ahvays  most  scrupu- 


THE  JAPANESE. 


287 


lously  clean,  serving  for  both  chairs  and  table.  It  is 
considered  a  great  want  of  politeness  to  enter  a  person's 
house  without  first  leaving  your  sandals  at  the  door.  The 
people  all  wear  a  sock  or  shoe  (of  dark  blue  cloth  gener- 
ally), which  fits  the  foot  just  as  a  mitten  does  the  hand, 
leaving  the  big  toe  separated  from  the  rest.  A  strap 
passes  between  the  toes  in  a  way  that  will  hold  on  the 
sandals,  which  are  made  either  of  wood  or  of  thick 
braided  straw.  The  little  children  observe  this  rule  as 
strictly  as  the  grown  people,  and  as  you  pass  by  you  see 
the  different-sized  sandals  of  all  the  family  standing  at  tiie 
doors.  The  houses  are  nearly  always  thrown  open,  so  you 
can  watch  the  people  sitting  on  their  mats  and  working 
away  at  their  various  trades,  or  if  it  happens  to  be 
chowchow  time,  the  chop-sticks  are  flying.  The  only 
fires  they  have  are  made  of  charcoal,  in  little,  highly- 
polished  boxes  about  a  foot  square.  They  are  some- 
times very  fiiiely  carved,  and,  among  the  wealthy,  cast 
in  bronze. 

W  would  sometimes  sit  down  in  a  tea-house  to  rest 
and  watch  the  Japanese  as  they  came  in,  take  their 
small  cup  of  clear,  strong  tea  (without  milk  or  sugar), 
while  warming  their  fingers  over  a  little  charcoal-box. 
Then  they  would  begin  to  smoke.  The  bowl  of  their 
pipe  holds  about  half  as  much  as  a  thimble,  and  after 
every  puff,  they  knock  out  the  tobacco  and  put  in 
fresh.  As  they  have  to  light  them  so  often,  they  could 
not  manage  very  well  without  the  charcoals. 

I  am  sure  our  American  friends  would  laugh  if  they 
could  see  Uncle  or  me  riding  in  a  gin-rik-shar.  It  is 
just  like  a  baby-carriage,  with  two  wheels,  except,  in- 
stead of  a  handle  in  front,  there  are  shafts,  and  a  man 
runs  between  them  to  pull  you  along.  The  gin-rik-shar 
holds  one  man,  but  it  is  "- tJic  thing"  in  Japan — 
everybody  uses  it,  natives  and  foreigners.     I  laughed 


288 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


as  much  the  first  time  I  tried  one  as  I  did  when  going 
through  Belfast  in  a  jaunting-car.  The  men  who 
draw  them  are  wonderl'uUy  strong.  (They  are  small, 
too  ;  it  is  so  with  all  the  Japanese  ;  none  of  them  seem 
to  be  much  larger  than  I  am.) 

One  day  Uncle  and  I  rode  forty  miles — out  to  Dai- 
bootz  and  back — in  gin-rik-shars,  with  two  men  to  each. 
We  started  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  were  on  a 
good  trot  all  day  over  mountains  as  well  as  meadows, 
and  when  we  reached  Yokoh:.ma  in  the  evening,  the 
men  ran  through  the  streets  as  fast  as  if  they  had  been 
perfectly  fresh.  It  was  wonderful.  We  only  stopped 
I, vice  on  the  way — once  at  a  tea-house,  where  they 
took  their  chowchow  of  rice  and  tea,  and  a  short 
smoke  ;  then  started  off  for  Kamakura,  winding  among 
the  rice-fields  for  miles  and  miles  on  narrow  paths, 
where  it  would  be  impossible  for  a  horse  to  go.  As 
we  got  farther  into  the  country,  we  became  more  and 
more  objects  of  curiosity,  many  of  the  people  probably 
never  having  seen  a  European  lady  before,  though,  of 
course,  there  are  often  gentlemen  travelling  within  the 
"  treaty  limits."  The  peasants  would  run  to  the  doors 
as  we  passed  by,  and  once  we  found  ourselves  right  in 
the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  children  just  out  of  school. 
Oh  !  what  a  shout  they  raised.  You  see,  boys  arc  the 
same  all  over  the  world. 

At  Kamakura,  which  was  the  old  capital  of  Japan 
before  Ycdo,  our  gin-rik-shar  boys  (all  Japanese  and 
Chinamen  arc  "  boys"  or  "  Johns"  in  Pigeon  English) 
took  their  second  rest,  while  we  went  to  visit  the  tem- 
ples. Besides  a  meteoric  stone,  which  they  worship, 
and  a  vast  number  of  hideous  idols,  we  saw  the  tri- 
umphal sedan-chairs  in  which  the  daimios  or  princes 
of  Japau  arc  carried  in  grand  processions.  They 
were   very  rich  with   gilt   and   lacquer,   that   peculiar 


5 


THE  JAPANESE. 


289 


Japanese  varnish  that  makes  wood  look   like  colored 
ivory. 

About  noon  we  reached  Daibootz,  the  "great  object 
of  our  excursion.  It  is  an  immense  bronze  statue,  at 
least  seventy  feet  hi^jh,  as  it  sits  cross-legged  on  a  low 
pedestal.     It  is  in   the  centre  of  a  sacred  grove,  quiet 


DaIIIOOTZ — THE   (IRGAT   StATUE  OF    BUDDIIA,    [APAN. 

and  beautiful  as  can  be.  As  you  approach  it  through 
an  avenue  of  spreading  trees,  the  branches  drooping 
gracefully  around  the  figure,  as  it  sits  with  its  hands 
lying  together  in  its  lap,  and  the  eyes  cast  down,  with 
a  meditative  expression  on  the  features,  the  whole  effect 
is  solemn  and  enchanting. 

After  seeing  so  many  ugly  monsters,  not  only  in  the 
13 


i|' 


290 


AROUXD  THE  WORLD. 


temples,  but  in  every  private  house,  ail  of  which  have 
little  shrines,  it  was  an  agiecable  surprise  to  find  such 
a  work  of  art  as  Daibootz,  the  Jupiter  of  the  Japanese 
gods. 

At  the  end  of  the  long  avenue  was  a  curiously-shaped 
gate,  peculiar  to  the  country,  guarded  on  either  side 
by  a  fiery-red  devil  or  evil  spirit.  We  sat  down  under 
one  of  these  and  ate  our  lunch,  under  his  special  super- 
intendence, I  dare  say.  On  our  way  home  I  learned 
another  new  thing — the  Japanese  use  that  soft  paper 
of  theirs  for  pocket-handkerchiefs.  Good  idea,  saves 
washing. 


SBZ 


XXXVI. 


Y  E  D  O . 


MUD — TEMPLES  OF  SHIBA — HAIR  TOP-NOTS — ATOGAYAMA — THE  '  HURNT 
district" — A  CIIOWCHOW  HOUSE — A  JAPANESE  THEATRE — A  DAY 
(iAlNKD. 

Unfortunately  we  chose  a  rainy  day  for  visiting 
Yedo.  The  streets  are  not  paved  and  they  have  no 
sidewalks,  so  we  were  covered  with  mud,  and  missed 
one  or  two  sights.  We  would  have  stayed  over  night, 
but  there  are  no  good  European  hotels  in  the  city, 
and  we  did  not  like  the  idea  of  "  putting  up  "  at  a  Jap- 
anese house  for  fear  of  being  embarrassed  with  chop- 
sticks and  such  things. 

However,  we  saw  much  more  than  we  expected,  and 
had  a  merry  day  of  it.  The  only  railroad  in  Japan  runs 
between  Yokohama  and  Yedo,  so  that  part  of  the  trip 
was  easily  accomplished.  We  had  a  paper  given  to  us 
before  we  started,  with  the  names  of  what  we  wanted 
to  see,  written  in  English  and  Japanese,  so  we  could 
show  it  to  the  driver  and  point  to  the  latter.  First  of 
all,  we  went  to  the  temples  of  Shiba,  which  are,  really, 
the  principal  things  to  be  seen  in  the  great  city.  They 
are  a  number  of  temples  built  over  the  burial-places  of 
the  Tycoons  or  Emperors  of  Japan.  Like  all  of  their 
sacred  buildings,  they  are  in  a  grove,  and  in  examining 
them  one  can  not  help  admiring  their  good  taste  ;  inside 
and  out,  everything  is  in  such  perfect  harmony.  Though 
they  are  very  richly  ornamented  and  colored,  they  do 
not  look  gaudy.     When  we  were  going  to  enter  the 

(291) 


292 


AROUND  THE   WOULD. 


largest  temple  the  little  shaven-headed  Bonze  (priest) 
who  showed  us  around,  informed  us  that  we  must  take 


A  Chinese  Street  Scene. 


off  our  shoes — rather  an  unwelcome  request  on  such  a 
cold,  damp  day.     At  the  appearance  of  a  boo  (about 


YEDO. 


293 


twenty-five  cents)  his  conscientious  scruples  vanished, 
and  we  were  allowed  to  enter  at  a  side  door,  boots  and 
all.  The  American  Minister  at  Yokohama  tol  1  us  he 
had  not  thought  of  the  boo  expedient,  and  so  rather 
than  take  off  his  boots  went  away  without  seeing  the 
inside  of  the  temples  at  all. 

We  saw  more  shows  and  templec,  pagodas,  and  pleas- 
ure grounds  during  the  day  than  I  can  remember. 
Among  other  things  at  Asakusa,  was  an  old  wooden 
idol,  with  the  features  all  worn  off  so  that  his  head 
looked  like  a  round  ball.  While  I  was  looking  at  it  a 
woman  with  a  child  came  up  and  began  rubbing  his 
face  and  hands  in  an  affectionate  way.  I  afterwards 
heard  that  he  was  one  of  their  gods  of  health,  and  they 
believed  some  virtue  from  the  part  of  the  idol  they 
rubbed  would  be  imparted  to  the  sick  man  and  cure 
him.  Another  curious  custom  is  this :  Avhen  a  man  is 
very  sick  and  expects  to  die,  he  will  cut  off  the  little 
top-knot  the  Japanese  always  wear,  and  send  it  to 
the  temple  of  the  god  of  health  as  an  offering.  This 
is  the  greatest  sacrifice  he  could  make.  Not  very 
far  from  Yedo  there  is  an  old  temple  where  there  are 
thousands  of  these  hair  top-knots  hanging  around  the 
walls. 

After  we  had  seen  Shiba  we  ascended  the  hundred 
steps  of  Atogayama  to  an  elevation  from  which  we 
could  have  had  a  fine  view  of  the  city  on  a  clear  day. 
As  it  was,  we  saw  the  low  houses  stretching  off  in  the 
distance,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  with  here  and  there 
a  pagoda  towering  up.  I  have  a  better  idea  of  the 
size  of  the  place  from  the  hours  we  spent  in  riding 
through  it.  I  thought  we  should  never  reach  the  castle, 
which  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  city  from  Shiba.  It 
is  here  that  the  present  Mikado  resides.  I  think  it  is 
surrounded  by  six  distinct  walls  and  moats.     We  went 


294 


AROUXD  THE   WORLD. 


inside  of  three,  which  is  as  far  as  strangers  can  go  with- 
out a  permit. 

The  next  thing  on  our  programme  was  to  find  some- 
thing to  eat.  We  looked  over  our  '*  interpretation 
paper"  and  found  the  words  "  chowchow  house/'  "  for- 
eign food."  The  driver  understood  what  we  wanted 
and  started  off.  Wc  drove  for  at  least  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  through  the  "  burnt  district,"  where  a  great 
conflagration  had  taken  place,  not  a  year  ago.  and  now 
there  was  not  a  vacant  space  to  be  seen — every  house 
was  built  up.  The  spot  was  only  distinguishable  by  the 
clean,  new  wood-wr  :.  Great  fires  are  as  common  in 
the  cities  of  Japan  as  earthquakes  ;  I  am  told  they 
have  from  three  to  five  a  month. 

We  found  the  chowchow  house  to  be  very  nice,  and 
though  nobody  spoke  English,  they  had  a  table  set  in 
European  style,  with  knives,  forks,  and  spoons.  All 
the  family  came  to  have  a  peep  at  us,  and  though  we 
could  not  speak  a  word  which  they  could  understand, 
they  took  it  for  granted  that  they  knew  what  we  want- 
ed, and  before  long  the  courses  began  to  come  one 
after  another.  I  thought  they  would  never  stop  ;  at 
last  we  had  to  call  out  enough.  Not  only  call  out,  but 
gesticulate  in  the  most  decided  manner,  before  they 
ceased  bringing  up  something  more.  There  was  only 
one  dish  we  had  any  misgivings  about — it  certainly 
savored  of  kitten  !  Perhaps  they  thought  they  were 
giving  us  a  gnat  treat.  When  we  were  ready  to 
leave,  the  man  brought  us  a  bill  written  out  in  Japanese, 
which  Uncle  keeps  as  a  curiosity.  As  this  gave  him  no 
clue  to  the  price,  he  began  pulling  out  the  rios  and  the 
boos  until  the  man  appeared  satisfied.  The  house  had 
two  stories  and  we  were  up-stairs,  the  first  floor  being 
the  Japanese  tea-house.  With  so  much  paper  and  light 
Avork    it    seemed    more   like  a    doll  house  than  a  real 


YEDO, 


295 


dwelling,  and  one  could  not  help  wondering  how  they 
keep  the  children  from  knocking  them  to  pieces,  and 
kicking  holes  in  the  screens. 

Wc  had  been  to  see  evervthinsr  that  was  marked  on 
our  paper,  but  we  still  had  several  hours  before  us,  so 
we  decided  to  find  out  a  theatre.  Somebody  had  told  us 
it  was  very  amusing.  After  wasting  a  good  deal  of 
time  we  succeeded  in  reaching  the  theatre.  From  the 
front  it  looked  like  all  the  other  houses,  but  we  went 
up  a  flight  of  stairs  and  found  ourselves  in  the  gallery, 
looking  down  on  the  audience  and  the  stage.  We  were 
seated  on  mats  in  little  places  about  three  feet  square, 
separated  from  each  other  by  divisions  about  a  foot 
high.  The  pit  was  crowded  with  people,  sitting  cross- 
legged  on  the  floor,  which  was  partitioned  off  the  same 
way  in  little  scjuares  holding  four  persons  each.  We 
noticed  them  passing  around  Japanese  sweetmeats  and 
tea  during  the  performance.  The  people  seemed  very 
much  interested  ;  at  one  time  they  would  be  in  tears, 
then  again  they  would  cry  out  indignantly,  as  the 
piece  changed  from  pathetic  to  cruel.  To  us,  however, 
it  was  all  comical,  and,  being  in  a  conspicuous  place, 
in  constant  dread  of  offending  the  .sensitive  Japs,  we 
suffered  the  most  excruciating  pangs  of  suppressed 
laughter.  The  acting  seemed  to  be  most  extr.ivagant, 
with  a  great  deal  of  raving  and  flourishing  of  swords, 
and  the  piece  ended  by  somebody's  head  being  cut  off 
and  rolling  on  the  stage.  Between  each  scene  a  band 
of  musicians  made  very  squeaky,  noisy  music  on  strange 
instruments. 

The  scenery  was  very  rudely  represented,  and  there 
were  men  in  black  masks  who  crept  around  to  arrange 
it.  For  instance,  there  was  a  blind  man  in  the  play 
who  was  wandering  around  and  came  to  a  river,  or 
rather  the  river  came  to  him.     It  was  represented  by  a 


296 


ANOUMD   THE   IVOKLD. 


long  piece  of  cloth  painted  vvitli  wavy  blue  lines,  which 
was  jerked  slowly  up  by  a  string  from  the  far  end  of 
the  room  opposite  the  stage.  This  wonderful  stream 
flowed  right  along  through  the  audience  on  the  pass- 
age-way or  aisle,  which  was  raised  about  a  foot  from 
the  floor,  and  was  on  a  level  with  the  stage.  It  was 
ridiculous  to  see  this  thing  coming  up  to  the  place 
where  the  crazy  actor  was  groping  his  way.  As  soon 
as  the  would-be  river  came  near  enough,  he  rushed 
madly  towards  it,  put  his  foot  in  the  blue  waves,  and 
then  shrank  back  affrighted.  At  another  time  in  his 
wanderings  the  old  man  was  to  fall  off  a  precipice. 
This  was  represented  by  a  green  box  perpendicular  on 
one  side  and  sloping  on  the  other  with  a  tree  stuck  in 
the  top,  which  the  supposcd-to-be-invisible  men  in 
rriasks  pushed  into  the  middle  of  the  stage.  The  old 
man  climbed  up  the  sloping  side  and  fell  off  the  other, 
when  the  hill  once  more  disappeared  in  a  supernatural 
manner.  They  had  also  a  remarkable  way  of  pushing 
stools  under  the  actors  when  they  wanted  to  sit  down, 
giving  a  most  comical  effect.  I  enjoyed  that  theatre 
more  than  anything  I  had  seen  for  a  long  time.  We 
laughed  over  it  for  a  week  or  more. 

On  the  loth  of  March  we  left  Yokohama  in  the 
Pacific  mail  steamer  '^Alaska,"  which  is  paddling  instead 
of  screwing  us  across  the  great  ocean  while  I  write. 
Just  as  we  were  leaving  Japan  we  met  and  exchanged 
news  with  the  "  Colorado "  from  San  Francisco,  and 
since  that  we  have  had  the  whole  ocean  to  ourselves 
until  to-day,  March  30,  when  a  vessel  was  seen  on  the 
horizon.  Perhaps  you  will  wonder  what  we  have  been 
doing  with  ourselves  all  those  twenty-one  days.  That 
is  answered  in  a  few  words — trying  to  make  the  time 
pass.  There  are  about  six  hundred  and  thirty  Chinese 
coolies  in  the  steerage.     These,  with  a  cargo  of  Japan 


YEDO. 


297 


tea  and  cij^ht  first-class  passengers,  have  been  our 
fellow-travellers,  together  with  the  birds,  a  species  of 
albatross,  that  have  followed  us  all  the  way.  The  day 
we  crossed  the  i8oth  meridian  of  longitude,  was  Sun- 
day, and  as  that  is  the  place  where  the  extra  day  is 
tacked  on,  which  one  makes  in  going  around  the  world, 
we  had  two  Sundays  in  succession,  both  being  the  22d 
of  March.  Had  we  kept  on  with  the  usual  way  of 
counting  we  should  have  been  a  day  wrong  at  San 
Francisco. 

There  are  two  Japanese  young  men  on  board  who 
are  going  to  America  to  study  engraving.  They  do 
look  too  ridiculous  in  European  clothes !  One  of 
them  made  an  India-ink  sketch  on  Japanese  paper  of 
our  little  boy  passenger.  It  is  a  very  good  likeness, 
with  one  exception  ;  he  made  the  little  fellow's  eyes 
slant  like  a  Jap's — just  imagine  ! 

During  the  voyage  a  Chinaman  died,  and  his  body 
is  being  taken  with  us  to  be  sent  back  to  China  by  the 
next  steamer.  It  is  so  with  every  Chinaman  that  dies 
abroad,  for  they  believe  they  can  not  go  to  heaven 
unless  buried  in  China. 

13* 


'i- 


XXXVII. 


TWENTY-FIVE  DAYS  ON  THE  PACIFIC. 


THE    WAVES     RISE     AND    THE    RAIN    FALLS - 
TIME  — "  YOU     SAVEZ  "' —  SEA  -  liHiDS     AND 

fool's  day. 


HOW      WE     PASSED     THE 
THEIR      FLIGHT  —  APRIL 


TWENTY-FIVE  days  at  sea — a  long  time  without  see- 
ing a  foot  of  dry  land,  and  not  even  a  vessel  to  keep 
us  company  on  the  waste  of  waters.  Yet  such  was  our 
voyage  from  Japan  to  San  Francisco — a  part  of  our  jour- 
ney we  had  long  looked  forward  to  with  a  vague  dread, 
and  when  the  time  came,  it  was  with  some  misgivings 
that  we  bade  adieu  to  Yokohama  and  its  inhabitants — 
for  even  if  they  were  heathens  they  were  human  beings 
and  better  company  than  the  fishes — and  consigned 
ourselves  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  winds  and  v/aves 
of  the  mightiest  of  oceans — the  broad  Pacific. 

But  we  were  homeward  bound — a  thought  that  did 
much  to  keep  up  our  spirits  during  those  first  stormy 
days,  while  the  great  steamer  puffed  its  way  slowly 
through  the  tossing  water  and  the  dreary  rain,  f  jr  it 
was  the  equinoctial  season,  and  nothing  can  be  more 
forlorn  then  drizzling,  rainy  weather  at  sea.  Everything 
was  so  fearfully  damp,  the  waves  slushing  against  the 
sides  of  the  vessel,  the  rain  dripping,  dropping  every- 
where, running  in  little  streams  over  the  deck,  trickling 
from  the  masts  and  shrouds,  hissing  against  the  steam- 
pipes,  and  soaking  into  the  clothes  of  the  sailors,  who 
looked  like  drowned  rats  hunying  around  ;  while  every 
(298) 


riVENTY-FIVE  DAYS  ON  THE  PACIFIC. 


299 


thing  one  touched  on  the  vessel  seemed  damp  and 
sticky  ;  and  the  few  passengers  huddled  together  near 
the  steam-heaters,  until  really  one  began  to  think  we 
would  all  be  absorbed  or  sink  away  into  rain-drops  or 
mist  like  Undine  and  her  mysterious  old  uncle. 

Many  times  a  day  our  thoughts,  too  eager  to  keep 
pace  with  the  plodding  inotion  of  the  steamer,  would 
span  an  airy  b  '  'ge  across  the  hundreds  of  leagues  that 
separated  us  *  m  the  coast  of  America,  across  which 
we  could  tra.ci  backwards  and  forwards  at  will  and  re- 
fresh ourselves  with  imaginary  glimpses  of  what  was 
going  on  in  our  "  ain  countree." 

We  did  many  things  to  hurry  up  old  Time,  who 
seemed  to  have  lost  his  flying  propensities,  some  of 
which  would  make  one  smile. 

I  remember  one  day  when  Uncle  .md  I,  in  a  despei- 
ate  effort  at  amusing  ourselves,  resorted  to  "  tit-tat- 
toe "  on  an  old  slate  that  happened  to  be  near,  and 
spent  several  hours  at  this  novel  and  interesting  game. 

At  another  time,  the  table-cloth  in  the  saloon  being 
checked  in  red  and  v/hite  squares,  we  played  checkers 
oil  it  by  portioning  off  a  certain  part  ol  it  for  the 
board,  and  using  silver  dollars  for  the  white  men  and 
large  copper  pennies  for  the  black  ones.  Any  one  not 
understanding  the  idea  might  have  supposed  we  were 
gambling  in  some  outlandish  fashion,  "a  la  Japanese," 
for  instance. 

The  carpenter  of  the  ship,  finding  us  so  destitute  of 
games,  kindly  volunteered  to  make  us  a  backgammon- 
board  and  checkers,  which,  though  rude,  were  cjuite  a 
success,  especially  as  he  had  only  his  heavy  carpenter 
tools  to  work  with.  The  board  consisted  of  a  square 
piece  of  wood,  planed  on  one  side,  on  which  the  points 
were  painted  in  red  and  black,  with  a  long  strip  of 
paint  down  the  centre  dividing  the  two  parts  of  the 


300 


AROUXD   'J HE   WOKLD. 


board,  which  did  not  fold  over.  The  checkers  were 
Httle  round  blocks  of  wood,  and  for  dice-boxes  we  used 
Japanese  boxes  of  bamboo.  As  the  eight  cabin  pas- 
sengers—  all  gentlemen  except  myself  and  one  lady 
who  had  a  little  boy  —  became  better  acquainted,  we 
played  whist,  bezique,  and  backgammon  as  regularly 
every  day  as  the  sun  rose  and  set.  I  doubt  if  any  of 
them  hd,ve  as  great  a  lelish  for  those  games  since  then, 

I  varied  these  occupations  by  building  block  houses 
for  the  little  boy  and  telling  him  «tories  until  my 
ingenuity  was  almost  exhausted.  He  was  a  bright 
little  fellow,  who  had  been  born  in  China  and  had 
always  been  under  the  catC  of  a  Chinese  nurse,  so  he 
spoke  "  Pigeon  English  "  with  as  much  or  even  more 
fluency  than  his  mother-tongue,  and  always  began  or 
ended  his  sentence^-  ^vith  '*  you  savez,"  a  combination 
of  English  and  French,  which  is  sprinkled  most  plenti- 
fully through  every  conversation  m  "  Pigeon  English," 
that  remarkable  mixture  of  languages.  *''  You  savez  " 
is  the  key  to  everything ;  it  is  the  first  thing  an  English- 
man learns  on  going  to  China,  and  indeed  new-comers 
are  apt  to  think  that  if  they  open  a  phrase  with  these 
words,  and  say  all  the  rest  in  good  English,  that  no 
Chinaman  can  fail  to  understand  them. 

One  day  our  little  friend  went  to  the  stewardess  to 
get  something  to  eat,  and  said  : 

"  Stewardess,  mamma  say  give  me  bread  and  butter," 
then  a  happy  thought  having  struck  him,  he  added, 
looking  up  at  her  with  "a  smile  that  was  childlike  and 
bland,"  "  butter  on  two  sides,  topside  and  bottomsidc, 
you  savez  ?  " 

*'  No,"  said  the  stewardess,  "  I  don't  savez.*' 

An  invariable  source  of  interest  on  board  were  tile 
birds,  a  species  of  albatross,  that  followed  the  vessel 
from  coast  to  coast,  during  the  whole  twenty-five  days, 


m 

li 


TWENTY-FIVE  DA  YS  ON  THE  PACIFIC. 


301 


now  gathenng  around  in  great  numbers,  then  .scattering 
off  and  lagging  behind,  sometimes  disappearing  entirely 
except  one  or  two,  then  flocking  in  again  from  every 
direction,  fhey  would  fly  for  hours  and  hours  without 
resting,  until  one  would  think  that  they  must  drop 
from  sheer  exhaustion  ;  but  they  only  lighted  on  the 
water  when  something  was  thrown  overboard  to  them, 
or  to  devour  some  unwary  fish  that  came  too  near  the 
surface.  They  would  then  settle  on  the  waves  and  fold 
down  their  great  wings,  which  were  about  four  feet 
from  tip  to  tip,  so  that  they  looked  something  like 
ducks.  In  resuming  their  flight  they  would  run  along 
on  the  water  for  some  distance  with  outstretched  feet 
and  wings  a.^sd  start  from  the  top  of  a  wave. 

What  renders  the  flight  of  these  birds  so  majestic  and 
impressive  is  that  they  sail  along  quietly  and  noiselessly 
without  flapping  their  wings,  except  when  they  raise  or 
lower  themselves  or  turn  off  in  a  different  direction  ; 
they  seem  to  tack  with  the  wind  like  a  sailing  vessel, 
taking  a  zigzag  course  when  it  is  not  fair.  We  noticed 
that  when  there  was  no  breeze  at  all  th  .y  flapped  their 
wings  much  more  frequently.  Some  of  the  passengers 
tried  to  catch  them  by  fastening  pieces  of  meat  to  the 
end  of  a  long  cord  and  letting  it  dangle  behind  the 
vessel.  The  idea  was  that  the  bird  would  swallow  the 
meat  and  they  could  then  draw  it  in  by  the  cord.  A 
cruel,  mean  way,  it  seemed,  to  take  such  splendid  creat- 
ures. They  were  not,  however,  successful.  The  motion 
of  the  steamer  was  too  rapid  to  allow  the  birds  time  to 
swallow  the  bait.  Several  times  they  caught  it  in  their 
hooked  beaks,  but  it  was  jerked  out  before  they  could 
be  taken. 

We  had  a  great  deal  of  fun  among  the  passengers  on 
April  Fool's  day.  In  the  morning  we  had  cotton  fish- 
balls   for   breakfast.     This   put    us   on    our    guard    at 


hv^-^'r'z  iis.'is--'Y:i.::-t'  j:-.:,\  ...j  '.;■  ,.^^iyiW\. 


302 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


dinner,  but  everything  went  on  as  usual  until  it  came 
to  the  dessert.  A  very  tempting  frosted  cake  was  placed 
before  the  captain  and  he  began  to  cut  it.  He  tried 
and  tried  with  several  different  knives,  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  He  made  no  impression  on  the  cake,  and 
thought  it  must  be  very  stale.  Finally  he  succeeded 
in  knocking  off  a  piece  of  the  icing  and  the  knife  struck 
something  with  a  ringing  sound.  The  captain  now 
turned  the  cake  upside  down,  showing  an  empty  tin- 
pan,  which  disclosure  was  received  with  a  roar  of 
laughter. 

The  baker  made  very  nice  white  cream  candy,  which 
had  been  frequently  on  the  '.  ..  Noticing  its  resem- 
blance to  chalk,  I  suggested  co  the  captain  a  day  or  two 
before  that  it  would  be  a  splendid  chance  for  an  April 
Fool.  So  when  I  saw  the  dish  of  candy  on  the  table  I 
followed  it,  as  it  was  being  handed  around,  with  great 
interest.  One  or  two  of  the  passengers  tasted  it,  dis- 
covered the  joke,  but  very  prudently  kept  it  to  them- 
selves. A  young  Englishman  just  opposite  me,  how- 
ever, took  the  largest  piece  on  the  dish  and  put  it  all 
in  his  mouth.  He  instantly  snatched  it  out  again, 
showing  his  tongue  and  the  inside  of  his  mouth  per- 
fectly white.  Those  who  knew  the  joke  now  fairly 
shouted,  calling  the  attention  of  every  one  else  to  the 
fearful  faces  he  was  making  over  the  dose  he  had  taken. 
In  the  midst  of  our  merriment  the  vessel  suddenly 
stopped,  and  the  faces  all  changed  from  laughter  to  a 
look  of  seriousness  and  alarm.  Ignorant  of  the  cause, 
it  was  with  a  strange  thrill  that  we  found  ourselves 
arrested  in  mid-oc^;an,  a  deadly  «tiL,i,..:s  ■■■.^  "^eding  to 
the  rumbling  of  the  machinery.  ]'.  ■  ,s,  lio.v  •>  ^r,  only 
a  slight  breakage  in  the  enfi;  ^  and  vv  ,^  \.  ji  .  ,011  mov- 
ing again,  though  less  rapidiy  than  beK  le 


XXXVIII. 


CHINESE     EMIGRANTS 


THE  "ALASKA  AND  HER  CAPTAIN'  —  THE  CHINESE  KITCHEN,  CABINS, 
AND  OPIUM-SMOKING-ROOM  —  JOYFUL  MESSENGERS  —  THE  GOLDEN 
GATE — COUNTING  THE   CHINAMEN — ASHORE   AT   LAST. 

The  Steamer  "Alaska,"  which  stopped  so  suddenly 
with  us  in  the  midst  of  the  Pacific,  and  which  has 
since  been  driven  ashore  on  the  coast  of  China,  though 
we  have  not  been  able  to  learn  any  of  the  particulars, 
was  a  magnificent  vessel  of  unusual  size.  But  it  was 
not  a  very  good  ocean  steamer  either  for  speed  or 
safety,  having  paddle-wheels  instead  of  a  screw.  It 
had  six  distinct  decks — even  a  house  six  stories  high  is 
a  rare  thing ;  imagine  then  such  an  one,  lengthened  and 
moulded  into  the  form  of  a  ship,  what  a  monster  it 
would  be  floating  on  the  water.  The  "Alaska "  was 
fitted  out  with  all  the  magnificence  of  a  Hudson  river 
steamer. 

The  captain  was  proportioned  in  size  to  his  vessel ; 
he  had  a  gigantic  stature  and  great  strength,  a  very 
commanding  appearance,  and  was  an  experienced  sea- 
man— in  fact,  had  run  away  from  home  when  a  boy  to 
become  a  sailor,  and  had  fought  his  way  up  through 
every  kind  of  hardship.  He  seemed  just  the  man  to 
take  the  charge  and  responsibility,  and  a  heavy  one  it 
was,  of  that  great  vessel  with  its  rich  cargo  and  its 
hundreds  of  human  lives.     Counting  Chinamen,  crew, 

(303) 


304 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


and  all,  there  must  have  been  very  nearly  a  thousand 
souls  on  board. 

To  see  that  everything  was  right  and  in  order,  the 
captain  made  a  complete  tour  of  the  steamer  every 
evening  at  eight  o'clock,  when  every  man  was  obliged 
to  be  at  his  post,  and  each  department  ready  for  in- 
spection. One  evening  the  captain  took  us  with  him 
on  this  visit,  and  it  was  very  interesting. 

We  went  through  the  bakery,  the  pantry,  and  the 
kitchen,  where  the  cooks  and  waiters  were  on  hand, 
with  ovor>  drawer  open  for  inspection,  and  all  the 
dishes  and  cooking  utensils  shining  on  the  shelves,  the 
perfection  of  neatness  and  order.  We  then  visited  the 
butcher's  quarters,  where  we  heard  the  various  noises 
of  a  farm-yard  ;  there  were  cows,  chickens,  sheep,  and 
pigs,  whose  late  companions,  killed  and  quartered,  were 
suspended  from  the  ceiling  near  by.  In  another  place 
we  saw  a  small  dining-room,  with  a  table  all  set  for 
those  officers  who  were  on  watch  during  the  night,  and 
took  their  meals  at  different  times  ;  we  also  got  a  peep 
down  the  hatchway  into  the  forecastle,  where  the 
sailors  sleep,  but  it  was  not  very  inviting  and  the  cap- 
tain did  not  ask  us  to  visit  it.  We  went  in  to  see  the 
Chinese  kitchen  and  eating-room,  and  read  riie  bill  of 
fare  for  the  next  day,  which  the  captain  always  looked 
over.  It  seemed  to  be  all  rice,  with  variations.  The 
Chinamen  had  tickets  for  their  food,  one  of  which  they 
gave  in  at  each  meal,  and  they  eat  there  standing. 

We  used  to  sometimes  watch  them  at  a  distance  as 
they  came,  one  after  another,  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  to 
get  their  bowl  of  rice. 

In  the  course  of  our  trip  around  the  vessel,  which 
took  us  at  least  an  hour,  we  saw  their  small  cabins, 
containing  six  berths  each,  and  also  their  opium-smok- 
ing-room.    Allht)ugh  it  was  not  much  larger  than  a 


Ei! 


t:,"^ 


CHINESE  EMIGRANTS. 


305 


piano-box,  it  was  packed  just  as  full  as  it  could  be  with 
Chinamen,  drowsy  and  stupid  with  opium,  the  smoke 
of  which  filled  the  room.  They  prefer  being  shut  up 
in  a  close  place  like  this,  for  they  get  the  benefit  of 
each  other's  opium.  The  six  hundred  Chinese  emi- 
grants who  crowded  out  to  see  the  passengers  the  cap- 
tain was  taking  round,  were  very  dirty,  ragged,  and 
disagreeable-looking  specimens  ;  but  far  different  did 
they  appear  when  we  reached  San  Francisco. 

It  was  a  glorious  day.  The  sun  glittered  on  the 
waves  and  on  the  sails  of  vessels,  the  first  we  had  seen 
for  weeks.  Our  great,  dark,  noiseless  sea-birds,  com- 
panions of  our  voyage,  had  gradually  disappeared,  like 
our  doubts  and  fears,  which  had  risen  with  the  angry 
waves,  but  vanished  as  we  neared  land  ;  and  we  w€re 
surrounded  by  countless  numbers  of  snow-white  sea- 
gulls, with  pink  bills  and  claws,  rending  the  air  with 
their  flapping  wings  and  calling  backwards  and  forwards 
to  one  another  with  their  one  odd  note.  They  seemed 
like  joyful  messengers  who  had  come  out  to  welcome  us 
and  accompany  us  to  land.  Other  land-birds  soon 
began  to  skim  over  the  water,  great  sea-lions  stuck  out 
their  heads  around  the  vessel,  and  strange  to  say,  I 
saw  for  the  first  time  three  or  four  whales  spouting 
their  spray  into  the  air.  I  had  been  wishing  to  see 
some  ever  since  I  left  the  harbr-r  of  New  York,  but  it 
was  not  until  the  last  day  of  our  ocean  travel  that  I 
saw  them. 

While  we  were  watchirkg  all  these  things  the  Golden 
Gate  opened  before  as ;  the  tall  black  cross  in  the 
cemetery  on  "  Lone  Mountain  "  stood  out  against  the 
sky  ;  we  saluted  the  flag  of  the  .ight-house  on  the 

cliffs,  just  wer  the  fagir.g  su:'  ;  jr  arrival  was  tele- 
graphed from  there  mto  the  city .  a  pilot  came  to 
guide  us  in,  we  were  soon  anchored  in  San  Fran- 


3o6 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


Cisco  Bay,  waiting  for  the  health  officer  to  come  on 
board. 


o 


O 


w 

d 


o 


W 


When  he  arrived  we  all  Wt'/it  "  forward  "  to    .'  '    Hie 
Chinamen  counted,  which  was  done  lo  be  sure  that   no 


CHINESE  EMIGRANTS. 


307 


more  than  eight  hundred,  the  lawful  number,  were  on 
board,  and  that  they  were  all  in  good  health.  A  sailor 
stood  at  one  side  of  the  narrow  hatchway,  and  at  the 
other  one  of  the  mates,  who  counted  out  in  a  loud 
voice,  as  the  Chinamen  came  pouring  up  the  steep 
ladder :  '*  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight, 
nine,  ten — tally  !  one,  two,  three,"  etc.;  and  each  time 
he  said  "  tally"  the  doctor  made  a  mark  in  his  "book. 
Thus  they  were  counted  by  tens,  up  to  the  number  of 
six  hundred  and  thirty.  They  were  all  dressed  fur  the 
occasion  of  landing,  in  fresh  green,  yellow,  red,  and 
brown  clothes,  their  pigtails  newly  braided,  and  their 
faces,  which  had  been  besmeared  with  dirt  during  the 
voyage,  were  shining  yellower  and  more  heathenish 
than  ever.  They  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what  was 
being  done  to  them,  and  it  was  comical  to  watch  their 
expressions  as  they  were  pushed  and  pulled  up. 

The  sailor  and  the  officer  who  counted  were  not 
very  gentle  in  handling  them.  \Vhen  they  came  up 
too  slowly  they  were  caught  hold  of  by  the  arms, 
clothes,  or  pigtaiis,  whichever  came  first,  and  were 
carried  Into  daylight  with  such  impetus  that  they 
landed  on  the  decU  in  a  heap,  and  scrambled  up  the 
best  way  they  could,  some  wltji  a  broacl  •grill,  seeming 
to  consider  it  a  good  joke,  while  others  took  it  more 
seriously. 

Some  of  them  seemed  to  think  their  rice -tickets 
weiB  wanted,  and  most  of  them  came  out  with  them 
in  their  hands.  While  looking  around  for  home  one  to 
give  them  to,  they  were  hoisted  in  the  above  innniirr, 
and  their  tickets  scattered  to  the  winds.  Aa  tlu<y 
stood  crowding  around,  some  of  the  sailors  drove  them 
down  to  the  other  end  of  Uie  detk  with  ropes,  with  as 
little  ceremony  an  If  lli«y  tv«rt  9  f|«if/|  of  ri»t tic. 


3o8 


AROUND  THE  WORLD. 


After  a  very  arnoying  examination  by  the  custom 
house  officers,  we  .vcre  soon  riding  through  the  streets 
of  San  Francisco,  and  took  rooms  at  the  Lick  House 
where  we  slept  soundly,  though  still  dreaming  of  being 
"  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep." 


XXXIX. 

FROM   SAN    FRANCISCO    rO   SARATOGA. 

•niE   GOLDEN   CITY—  A    KIND   OLD    DUTCHMAN— THE  SEA-LICNS— ACROSS 
THE    COUNTRY— SIERRA    NEVADAS  —  SALT    LARK    CITV— PRAIRIES — 

HOME  ! 

» 

No  sooner  were  \vc  registered  at  the  hotel  than  old 
friends  seemed  to  turn  up  in  every  direction. 

It  was  such  a  treat  to  see  familiar  faces  after  being 

among  strangers  for  nearly  a  year.     Senator  C and 

his  wife  were  particularly  kind.  They  took  us  .1  drive 
through  tlu-  park  and  to  most  of  the  sights  in  the  city, 

and  Mrs.  C went  shopping  with  me.     It  had  been 

many  months  since  we  left  the  civilized  part  of  the 
world,  and  as  most  of  our  travelling  had  been  on  ship- 
board, which  every  one  who  ever  tried  it  must  know  is 
very  destructive  to  clothing,  our  purposely  small  stock 
had  become  rather  dilapidated. 

During  our  stay  in  San  Francisco,  we  visited  the  old 
Mission  church  established  among  the  Indians  by  Span- 
ish priests,  and  made  an  expedition  to  the  "seal  rocks" 
near  the  Cliff  House.  We  started  in  the  street  cars,  in- 
tending to  take  the  omnibus  at  Lone  Mountain,  but  we 
were  too  late  for  it.  An  old  German  landholder,  who 
lived  somewhere  out  near  the  Cliffs,  was  in  the  street 
cars,  and  on  learning  we  had  been  to  Germany,  he  be- 
came very  much  interested,  talking  about  his  "  VaUr- 
/and,"  and  when  we  reached  the  end  of  the  railway, 
finding  no  conveyance,  we  were  about  to  return,  but  he 

(309; 


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AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


protested — "  No,  no,  you  must  sec  the  sea-lions,  it  would 
never  do  to  go  away  without,"  and  declared  that  if 
nothing  else  could  be  found,  we  should  go  in  his  own 
buggy,  J^nd  he  would  wait  till  we  came  back. 


o 
u 

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O 

< 


in 

I 

a 
c 


,»    O 


G 


en 


Leaving  us  with  a  country  shop-keeper,  a  friend  of 
his,  who  invited  us  into  nis  priv^ate  parlor,  and  enter- 
tained us  with  an  account  of  his  six  months'  trip  across 
the  country  before  the  great  Union  Pacific  Railroad  was 


FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  SARATOGA. 


311 


thought  of,  our  new  friend,  after  some  time,  returned 
with  a  horse  and  buggy  hv_  had  hunted  up  for  us,  and 
which  we  hired  for  the  ride. 

After  a  hearty  good-bye,  our  good-natured  German 
drove  off  in  his  direction  and  we  in  ours,  probably  nover 
to  meet  again,  but  leaving  in  our  minds  a  pleasant  re- 
membrance of  the  genial  kindness  we  met  with  in  this 
part  of  the  country. 

W  !itn  we  reached  the  coast  we  looked  far  out  to  sea 
at  the  sails  on  the  horizon,  thinking  that  a  short  time 


Mission  Church  Restored— S\n  Francisco. 


before  our  position  was  just  the  reverse;  we  had  been 
out  there  ourselves,  looking  eagerly  in  toward  the  place 
where  we  now  stood.  Beneath  the  clitTs  were  rocks 
worn  into  queer  shapes,  and  even  pierced  through  in 
great  holes  by  the  waves,  over  which  countless  numbers 
of  seals  or  sea-lions  were  scrambling,  the  din  of  their 
hoarse  bellow  almost  drowning  the  roaring  of  the 
waves.  While  we  were  there  watching  them,  a  heavy 
fog  enveloped  us,  hiding  the  water,  the  sails,  the  sun- 
shine, and  the  sea-lions  ;    and  wrapping  ourselves  up, 


312 


AROUND   THE   WORLD. 


we  drove  rapidly  back  to  the  city  through  the  dense 
dampness. 

After  making  all  kinds  of  inquiries  and  plans  for  go- 
ing to  the  Yosemite  Valley  and  the  Big  Trees,  we  final- 
ly decided  to  give  up  the  project. 

It  was  too  early  to  go  then,  and  as  we  were  impa- 
tient to  get  home,  we  did  not  wish  to  wait  for  several 
weeks.  A  party  that  started  while  we  were  at  San 
Francisco  found  the  roads  snowed  up,  and  were  obliged 
to  return. 

The  trip  from  San  Francisco  to  New  York  is  so 
familiar  that  I  will  only  give  a  few  extracts  from  my 
diary,  written  with  a  pencil  as  we  jolted  along  in  the 
cars. 

April  II. — Left  San  Francisco  this  morning  at  seven 
o'clock.    Very  much  interested  in  the  California  scenery. 

Quantities  of  mustard  plant  growing  along  the  road. 
Watching  the  forms  and  peculiar  tints  in  the  clouds  ; 
made  Uncle  admit  that  some  of  our  American  sLies  are 
as  beautiful  as  those  of  Italy — a  question  we  had  often 
disputed.  Have  a  little  table  in  our  section  so  we  can 
play  cards.  Crossing  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains. 
Passing  through  the  snow-sheds  and  tunnels.  In  the 
dark  of  the  evening  we  pass  the  Hydraulic  Mines — ■ 
miners  at  work  by  torchlight. 

1 2th. — We  are  going  through  Nevada.  Mostly  bar- 
ren plains ;  cattle  in  great  numbers  grazing  on  the 
green  and  prickly  sage  and  the  stubble.     Palisades. 

13th. — Stopped  at  Ogden.  Took  the  train  for  Salt 
Lake  City.  Visited  the  Tabernacle,  shaped  like  the 
back  of  a  monstrous  turtle.  Great  interest  is  mani- 
fested in  the  beautiful  new  house  which  Brigham  Young 
is  building  for  Amelia,  the  latest  favorite. 

Salt  Lake  City  is  not  as  pleasant  a  place  as  we  had 


/A'c^J/  SA,V  F/^.tACJSCO  TO  SAA'A  TOGA 


313 


hcrifd  it  was;  v.ith  the  exception  of  the  Tabernacle,  i': 
looks  to  us  like  any  other  raw,  Western  town.  As  for 
harems,  they  may  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  picturesque 
and  romantic  in  the  rich,  hazy  light  of  an  oriental  city; 
but  they  are  certainly  disagreeable  and  repulsive  here, 
in  the  practical,  matter-of-fact,  broad  daylight  of  a  New 
World  settlement.  These  were  our  impressions  of 
Mormondom. 


Tin'.  Mormon  Taukrnaci.k. 

Returned  to  Ogden  to  jpend  the  night.  Such  a 
relief  to  have  a  night's  rest  off  the  cars. 

14th. — Travelling  again.  Snow  storm  ;  the  first  we 
have  seen  since  we  left  home. 

Warsatch  Mountains;  beautiful  wild  scenery.  We 
leave  them  behind  and  the  ride  becomes  barren  and 
uninteresting. 

Beginning  the  ascent  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


3M 


AROUND  THE   WORLD. 


15th.— Passed  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains — 

stran<4e  to    say,  we    saw  1 

country,  the  ascent  had  been  so  gradual. 


mountains,  only  a  rolling 


o 


i6th. — Prairie,  prairie,  prairie — all  day. 

At  Chicago  we  stopped  for  a  few  hours  and  drove 


FROM  SAN  FKAXCISCO   70  SARATOGA. 


315 


throuc;h  the  new  part  of  the  city — whole  streets  of 
magnificent  buildings,  fresh  from  the  workman's  hands — 
little  thinking  that  in  a  few  months  they  would  be  again 
razed  to  the  ground  by  the  fiery  scourge  of  that  city. 
We  hurried  down  to  the  train  and  were  once  more 
travelling.  At  Detroit  I  awoke  with  a  start  from  a 
sound  sleep,  for  after  six  nights  we  were  used  to  the 
sleeping-cars.     Bewildered  and  uncertain  where  I  was, 


Rapids  of  Niagara. 

I  felt  sure  that  the  shock  I  had  felt  was  caused  cither 
by  a  steamboat  explosion  or  a  railway  collision.  But 
it  was  only  the  train  rolling  onto  the  ferry-boat  with  a 
fearful  thump !  The  stormiest  day  on  the  ocean  had 
not  given  me  such  a  fright. 

At  Niagara  we  walked  across  the  bridge  while  the 
train  puffed  slowly  over,  but  Uncle  and  I  had  both  seen 
the  falls  before,  so  we  continued  our  journey. 

We  did   not    stop   again   until  we  reached  our  final 


3i6 


AROUND   THE    WORLD. 


destination,  and  were  ready  to  settle  down  once  more 
to  quiet  life.  Thus  June,  1874,  finds  us  where  June, 
1873,  left  us — Uncle  absorbed  in  the  duties  of  his 
parish,  I  intent  on  my  studies,  and  more  strongly  con- 
vinced than  ever  of  these  three  things  :  that  the  world  is 
round,  that  the  finest  country  in  the  world  is  the  United 
States,  and  that  the  brightest  spot  in  the  United  States 
IS  Home ! 


Walworth  Homestead,  Saratoga  Springs. 


For  p.  316. 


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